Son of the Archer and The Year of the Egos
by Melancholy's Sunshine
Summary: Third installment of the Son of the Archer series. Ron has survived his first year at Hogwarts. But it's never that simple is it? After all, he still has his family he was raised with, and the family he was born to in his life. Add in one of the most egotistical muggle men to grace technology and famous magical author and watch things get out of hand.
1. Here in my arms

**So, to those of you have made it here, welcome to the third installment of the Son of the Archer series. Because apparently just having two stories wasn't enough.**

 **Just as it follows, this occurs after both Son of the Archer and Son of the Archer and the Boy who lived. If you haven't read either of them, you will be horribly confused and I do encourage you to check them out if you want to read this one.**

 **Anywho, on with the story... I guess.**

It was as if he and his dad were the only two people in the world as he took in that his dad was holding him. Granted, Ron knew it was loud and chaotic and everyone was probably having a moment like this, but he couldn't have cared less in that moment. There was only one really major thing ruining the moment they were sharing.

"Dad."

"Yeah Ron?"

"You smell bad."

Clint snorted and gave a quick squeeze before letting him out of the hug, keeping a strong and comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Nice to see you too. And it looks like you grew some more too," he commented looking at Ron's height.

"Well, I am still growing dad."

"Right you are," he said as his gaze fell to the Weasley parents just as Percy approached them.

"What's with the people around them?"

Clint opened his mouth to talk when a smartly dressed individual tapped Clint on his shoulder.

"We're ready Mister Barton."

"Dad?"

"In a moment Ron," he said for quickly to Ron, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Although the British Ministry seems to have also gotten involved," the man answered irritably, his eyes gandering at a few of the individuals around his birth parents and sister. He seemed a bit put off over whatever exactly was going on but couldn't do a thing about it.

"Oh. _Fantastic,_ " Clint muttered. "How many government agencies are going to get involved?"

"Hopefully it's just MAGIC and the Ministry. Unless of course your boss gets involved."

"Fury knows not to unless there is something goes down. And I don't think anyone wants that."

"Dad?"

"Yeah Ron?"

"What's all going on?"

"Well, grace week."

"Grace week?"

"Remember, we have a transition week between living with me and living with your birth family."

"Oh. Right. At least we're together right?"

"Right," Clint smiled.

"Ron! You forgot your luggage!"

"Whoops! Sorry," Ron sheepishly remarked as the twins were carrying his trunk, then plopping it down in front of him. Clint gave a strange and knowing grin.

"Fred," he said pointing at one twin, "and George?" He added pointing at the other twin.

"Nope."

"Got it wrong."

"Can't you tell? I'm Gred."

"And I'm Forge."

Clint dramatically put his hand to his chest.

"I can't believe I was wrong."

Ron snickered but also wondered when did his dad and the twins get so... Chummy. The twins wouldn't say a _word_ to his dad before they left for Hogwarts. Just what had happened to change that? Even more peculiar, _when_ had something changed?

"Hermione," Bruce called out as his cousin approached with all her luggage. Ron could see Neville running to his mom and exchanging hugs. Ron smiled at the scene and noticed Harry approaching them a little sheepishly. Ron could have smacked himself. His dad had used agents to get the platform, as did Bruce most likely.

"Hey Harry!" Ron waved him over and Harry quickly made his way with his various trunks. Ron was actually rather thankful for the expansion charm inside the trunk provided for him.

He'd to ask Doctor Strange if there was a spell he could teach him that would do the same thing. Ron felt a sudden glee at doing that for Harry's birthday. And maybe Neville's too. They did happen to share the same birthday after all. Longbottom/Potter twin thing?

That glee diminished as Arthur, Molly, Percy and Ginny approached with, who now Ron assumed was members of the ministry of magic.

Molly had a slightly hurt look to her face, but also a resigned look that looked incredibly foriegn on someone Ron had only seen as strong willed. Arthur was a bit harder to read. He seemed curious, captivated but emotionally more guarded.

Ron could only assume that this was where Percy got his somewhat distant personality. The same one he seemed to be showcasing now, though Ron could see the licorice wand was now no longer in his pocket.

Ginny, contrary to the adults who were trying to reserve themselves as painfully obvious that they didn't want to, darted forward and hugged both Fred and George.

"You never sent me a toilet seat," she said with a grin.

"Boys!" Molly spoke with a tone that promised a talking to later.

"A toilet seat?" Clint questioned. Then a wild smile came to his face, "Hey Bruce, Tony did say he wanted something from our trip didn't he?"

Bruce looked at the agent archer much like an exasperated parent.

"Please don't Clint."

Clint just held his grin and waggled his brows getting a groan from Bruce. There was a cough from one of the Ministry agents and Arthur Weasley took a step forward.

"Mr. Barton." There was uneasiness, but also an unwavering tone.

"Mr. Weasley," Clint easily responded. Clint raised his hand, holding it out civilly. Arthur followed suit and the two shook hands. It clearly wasn't one between friends. But, in Ron's eyes, it was a start of something. He could only hope it was something good.

 **I feel great! (That's a lie)**

 **Regardless, before anyone calls out on the "grace week" remember, it was mentioned in the last chapter of the first story. Partially to allow Ron to get ready for the upcoming school year in late summer, but also to make sure no one is slipping him out of the country early.**

 **On an unrelatedish note, should I start short handing Son of the Acher to SotA?**

 **Edit: I spelled Ginny's name wrong. So sorry!**


	2. Tents in the yard

Clint would be the first to admit, walking through a brick wall was incredibly unnerving. He had gone through with a member of MAGIC and wasn't all too keen doing it again. But he doubted Ron would want to spend his time with him stuck in a crowded train station with other parents esstatic to see their since Clint had a question or two about what exactly occurred during the last few days of school. The twins had surprised Clint with that letter. It had been the first without one of Ron's to accompany it. And it had been surprisingly vague. Not that the twins ever had much to say to the man who raised their younger brother. Or well, any of the Weasleys really. They were the only ones to send letters, and rather reluctantly at that most likely.

"Shall we run through bricks Ron?"

"I've done stranger," Ron cheekily replied.

"Same," Clint chuckled. Clint held his arm out and Ron eagerly looped his with arm with his father, their free arms pulling luggage behind them. In pairs, Clint went through the portal to the non magical Britian with Bruce following and then the entirety of the Weasley brood. Lastly, was the dark haired boy Ron had introduced as Harry.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Clint shuttered with exaggeration.

"It's a staple," Molly Weasley stated surprisingly delicate, but with still iciness in her eyes, "Part of our lives."

Clint held his own, undeterred by the matriarch of the Weasley family. Natasha was scarier.

"Just like air vents in ours huh Ron?"

"Actually, I couldn't find one airvent in the school."

Clint held a faux look of disgust.

"Not one tunneling heating and cooling system? How did the castle even stay warm?"

"Fire. Lots of fire," Ron answered in a joking but solemn tone.

"Should I be worried?"

"Nah. It was all contained."

"I'll take your word for it."

Clint hummed as Harry walked up to the front of the American and Wealsey bunch. Nearby, Clint noticed a trio of individuals looking at the group in disgust. One was a rather obese man with a large and bushy mustache, greying from what Clint could tell. If not for his loud and clear British accent from his complaining to the woman next to him, he would have thought the man to be a stereotype of an American tourist. The woman was thin and lanky with a long neck, and short dark hair, a sneer clear on her face. The shortest looked, almost perplexed. Large just like the man but with a less angry expression. More curious and perhaps wary.

Or, Clint was reading way too into civilian children who hadn't yet worked facial expressions to emotions. Most likely the former.

He arched a brow when Harry made his way past them and walked up to the trio. The trio stiffened and Harry turned back to the group and gave a smile.

"Oh wait! Harry!" Ron called out and ran over the group. Clint absently wondered if it was any kind of healthy for someone to turn purple like the man was. Clint also was wondering _why_ this man was turning purple.

"Yes Ron?" Harry asked a slight bit quieter than normal.

"Don't forget to call or send letters," Ron said with a wide smile. Harry sheepishly smiled back and the woman looked like she had just swallowed a lemon. Ron then leaned real close and whispered, "Or I'll send my Aunt Tasha to check up on you."

"You would?" Harry asked bewildered.

"Sure. Isn't that what friends are for?"

"I thought they were for storming the castle," Harry commented. Ron laughed and Hermione ran up to Harry, giving him a quick hug.

"See you after break," she said letting go.

"Of course."

With that, Harry left with the three peculiar individuals.

Ron made his way back to his dad and everything seemed to move rather quickly.

From packing his things in cars, thankfully getting into the one with his dad and not the overwhelming group of Weasleys, to making their way to the ever as familiar Burrow. With what appeared to be sets of tents outside.

"Legal guys. Making sure neither of us does anything _illegal_."

"Really? Is Aunt Tasha in one of them?"

"Nope. All MAGIC people. She wasn't too thrilled but Nick did have a mission for her."

"I can't wait to see her."

" _What?_ Are you tired of me already?" Clint joked.

"Never dad," he replied. He had truly missed his dad too much to really joke about not wanting him around.

"Well, then, shall I show you my humble abode?" He asked as the Weasley car pulled in.

"Uh huh!"

With that, Clint began to run, with Ron eagerly chasing after to find his dad's tent.

In reality, it wouldn't have been to hard to find. It was the furthest one from the house and was a dark blue-purple rather than the other brown tents for the different individuals making everyone "play nice".

It was actually a little concerning, considering nothing had happened when his dad had camped out by himself when he had first been told he had to live with them for 3/4 of the year.

"Dad... You didn't get into a fight with... With the Weasleys while I was at school did you?"

"Nope. Actually, haven't heard one word from either Molly or Arthur."

"Then, how did you...?"

"How'd I get here? I called a lawyer. He got me the details. _And_ since I was unaware, they just wanted to be safe and not sorry."

"Okay?"

"Ron. Mr. Barton," a new voice interrupted. The two looked over to see Arthur Weasley looking a bit tense.

"Mr. Weasley."

"Would you two care to come in for some tea?"

Neither of the two had expected that. Sure perhaps Ron but _Clint_?

"What kind?" Clint asked.

"I believe we have an English Breakfast tea inside."

"Sounds British. I'm game," Clint spoke as diplomatically as he could muster, "How about you Ron?"

"I guess."

It was odd. Ron didn't think any of the Weasleys would act as well... Civil to his dad. Last time they had been in close proximity, they had gone out of their way to ignore him. He stayed close to his dad as they entered the burrow together.

 **So... Yeah.**

 **Despite my writing, this is going to sound a little weird, but I don't hate _any_ of the Weasleys. But... I acknowledge parts that we normally like about characters, I have manipulated to show the negative aspects of the same traits.**

 **Why am I mentioning this? Well, I have a new poll up.**

 **So take that Mysticarts!**

 **...**

 **Oh right she isn't here... And she hasn't beta-ed this chapter... Oh well...**


	3. Tea time

The house held an eerie silence among the Wealseys as Clint and Rin sat next to one another. Molly Weasley moving in a flurry around the kitchen as she prepared tea and sandwiches. Arthur took his place at the head of the table, next to Clint.

Fred and George stood abnormally quiet as they worked on some small thing or other. A prank perhaps? Ron wasn't too sure, but they stayed out of the kitchen, keeping within clear hearing range though.

The tension in the room was thick, only to be cut by the sharp sound of Molly Weasley's knife cutting some carrots for what appeared to be a stew for dinner.

The steam from the kettle pot filled the air and was quickly removed.

Before Ron was truly ready, a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of him and his dad. Sandwiches were placed in the center of the table for easy consumption.

"Eat up," Molly said as good naturedly as possible. She smiled warmly at Ron who grabbed a sandwich to nibble on.

"So Ron, how was your magic school?" Clint asked, taking a sip of the scalding tea. Ron did his best to hide a chuckle as his dad made a face at the heat.

"It was interesting. Classes were a little odd. Never thought I'd have to make a pineapple tap dance."

Clint then choked a little on his tea.

"You did _what_? Oh this I gotta see."

"Not now unfortunately," Arthur commented nipping that idea in the bud, "The ministry has a rule against magic being performed by underage wizards."

"So no magic? Shame. I wanted to see dancing fruit," Clint pouted exaggeratedly making Ron laugh.

"Maybe later."

There was a spark in Arthur's eyes and he opened his mouth to say something when a young voice interrupts him.

"Mum, have you seen my-" Ginny stopped when she entered the kitchen and saw her parents as well as Ron and Clint. Her face contorted into one of displeasure as she stood in the doorway.

"Have I seen your what dear?" Molly asked as she continued cooking.

"My... It's nothing mum," she said as she continued to stare at the three males at the table.

She took a few steps towards the table, to stand next to Rin on the opposite side of Clint.

"So Ron, do you wanna see my Quiditch collection?" Ginny asked with wide eyes as Arthur began asking Clint a question.

Ron looked a little uncomfortable, and he didn't want to leave his dad after just having gotten him back.

"Maybe later Ginny. I kind of have some catching up to do," he said shooting a quick glance to his dad who held a baffling look at Arthur who had just asked him something his hearing aid.

"But I barely see you," she whined.

"I barely _know_ you."

Her pleading eyes darkens slightly and she began to look upset and angry.

"That's not my fault."

Tears began to fill her eyes.

"I didn't ask for you to be gone. I didn't ask to not know you. _I_ didn't ask for someone else to have you instead," she began to escalate her voice, "You know, you're all mum and dad talk about," she added in a much softer voice, still laced with hurt.

"Well, I don't want to be the center of attention to people I don't know either."

"-and I really don't know more than that. It just helps me hear."

"Fascinating. Now what can you tell me about the function, of a Ru-bix cube?"

"Excuse me?" Clint asked a little louder than he probably should have. Molly looked back at her husband and the baffled archer, "A Rubiks Cube?"

Ron ignored the conversation in favor of addressing his little known and apparently huffy little sister he hardly knew.

"I really don't."

"But you're going to be all any talks about this summer I just know it. And I'm going to get left out. Even mum and dad spent a lot of time talking about you when you were at Hogwarts."

"I can't help it."

Ginny hardly looked satisfied and was going to say something else when one of the twins called for her. Her face lit up and she left the room without so much as a goodbye. There was a rock like feeling in his stomach from the interaction however. He didn't ask to be in this situation, and while all the Weasleys seemed to be on board for his _return_ , it would seem that one wasn't entirely on board with it. He doubted she asked for another brother. Five seemed to be more than enough.

He sipped his tea and continued nibbling on his sandwich as his dad tried to explain the concept of a Rubiks cube to Arthur Weasley.

* * *

Hermione felt a bit odd with leaving Britain without Ron. She knew he'd be coming back to America, but it was times like this that she wanted her friend by her side.

She hardly _knew_ Bruce. How was she supposed to make conversation with the man while she waited for Ron in America? Nevermind the _flight_ back.

What was she supposed talk about? She couldn't about talk school could she? They were suppose to keep magic a secret. Would Bruce even be interested in learning about the school? He was a man of science.

She didn't notice how ill Bruce looked at the idea of getting on a plane. He took a deep breath.

"Well Hermione. I believe it's almost time for us to board. Do you have a book you want to read or-um... Maybe get some gum for the flight?"

"Oh uh-Yes! I'd like a book."

Bruce led Hermione over to a small store where she grabbed a Nancy Drew book to read during the flight. She felt her muscle relax, knowing she had a momentary distraction to her issue with talking with Bruce.

 **Can everyone see my smile? No? Well it's a biggie. One, I have a community set for this series and any side stories.**

 ** _And_ my lovely beta sister, Mysticarts, has posted "Venture's Adventure for Takos".**

 **You know, for all those who wanted a follow up to Navidad in the castle chapter. It now exists people. _It exists._ **

**Anywho, let me know what's all going on in your semi chaotic lives you all live.**


	4. Settling down

There was nothing quite like being the center of attention. Something that Tony had understood since he was a young boy. He had been a focus for many type of people. Businessmen, scientists and most notably, the tabloids.

Heck, he couldn't go anywhere without drawing all the attention to himself. However, he used this little ability to his advantage. Bruce and Hermione needed to get into the tower undetected? All he had to do was step out for a few minutes and let the paparazzi follow him around. Simple. All so incredibly simple.

Not to mention, it gave him some moments to show off. It was always so entertaining to see people react to his Iron Man suit.

He didn't even bother to hide how smug he was when it came to the suit.

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!" a reporter for some tabloid paper called out to him. He didn't bother landing but gave the person a look. His helmet pulled back to reveal his face. He arched a brow showing his lack of interest.

"Is it true that you are sleeping with Captain America?"

Tony didn't even bother to roll his eyes as his mask went back over his face.

"Oh _sure_. Not that I don't have a smoking hot girlfriend," he said practially oozing sarcasm from his very being, impossible to ignore on the cameras recording him, "I am _surely_ with a ninty year old American fossil."

He didn't say anything more as he flew off back towards the tower. He was sure that Bruce and his little Hermione had made it back to the tower by now.

Soaring across the New York sky line, he ignored the gawking individuals below from common drivers, to pedestrians, to parents gathering their children in at a park. The children's reactions caught his attention for a moment as they looked at him in awe, not even fully aware of everything he had done, but wondering and wanting the suit he had designed.

It was good to be the main man.

* * *

"Are you alright Hermione?" Bruce asked his rather tired looking ward as he assisted bringing her belongings to her room that Tony had set up for her.

"I'm fine," she yawned as she covered her mouth. "Sorry."

"No need. Jet lag can be a bit of a hassel to get over. I understand if you need to rest a bit."

"No. I'm fine really," she replied stubbornly. "I'd like to get started on my homework actually."

"Do you have a lot?"

"A bit."

"Mind if I take a look?"

Hermione paused. She looked Bruce in the eye despite her fatigue.

"You actaully want to look at my homework?"

"Well... yes? I'd like to be able to help you if you need it. But I'd actually to look at it to see if I understand it first," he replied sheepishly. Hermione looked back at her trunk and began to pull out some parchment and a rather old looking leather bound book.

She opened it up and Bruce noted a few of the terms such as brewing and cauldron.

"Is this potions?"

"Mmhm. Professor Snape is very strict and is very tricky to please. So, I figured I'd get started right away and make sure this is my best work."

"What's best work?"

Both Hermione and Bruce turned to see Tony standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Oh. Tony, you're back."

"You know it Green guy."

Bruce averted his gaze to Hermione's homework.

"Oh what do we have here?" Tony said walking into the room and picking up Hermione's textbook.

"My potion's text book."

Tony's eyes scanned the paper.

"We can get this stuff. JARVIS, get the kid some ingredients. And send them to my lab."

"Of course sir."

"Wait a moment. I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school until I'm an adult."

Tony gave a devious look.

"Perhaps in _Britain._ But who's to say in America?"

"Tony _no."_

"Tony _yes!"_ He said as he sauntered out of the room with Hermione's text book towards his lab.

* * *

Clint was glad that it appeared that Arthur Weasley, the biological father of his son, didn't hate him. Or if he did, he was putting it aside in favor of having Ron interact with the family without too much fuss.

And take advantage of asking numerous questions about some of the most obscure things. From Rubiks cubes to telephones, there seemed to be nothing that he wouldn't ask about in thourough detail.

Molly Weasley was more the questioning type. If she was speaking to Clint, it was always a question. Seldom as it was, it was something. Heck, it was more polite than many of the people he worked with had to say.

The children however were the most unpredictable.

Fred and George tried to cram in as much time as they could in with Ron before the inevitable parting they didn't wish to bring up. This in turn made him spend quite a bit of time with Ginny, the young female red head that seemed almost indifferent to Ron. What was most entertaining however, was whenever Ron got fed up with the attention from his biological parents or the twins and ran off to one of the upper levels Clint was not welcomed to go into. If he trusted what he heard though, he was running into the oldest son who was present in the house's room. Percy Weasley.

The only time Clint saw this Weasley was when he was invited inside around dinner time to eat with Ron and for the rest of the family to watch him carefully and judge him amongst themselves.

"Everyone enjoying dinner?" Molly Weasley asked.

"Absolutely!"

"Positively enriching!" the twins laid on rather thickly. Molly gave a fond expression at their answers.

"It's good Mum," Ginny added in with a smile.

"It's fine Mum," Percy said eating reasonably quickly, no doubt to return to his room for school or some _other_ teenage activity. Clint half wondered if he had a girlfriend and someway to instant message. Granted, Stark did gift them all cell phones. Although if Arthur was any indication, none of them knew how to use one other than Ron.

"Lovely as always dear," Arthur answered tiredly. Clint wasn't entirely sure what the man did, but he came home rather exhausted everyday he had had to go in.

"Everything alright Ron?" Molly asked not hearing him answer her question. He looked a little uncomfortable for a moment before taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Everything's good," he answered. Clint gazed at him for a moment more as Molly began to eat some herself.

"We should swap recipes sometime," Clint commented. It was rather good British home cooking. He didn't think he'd have such a good shepard's pie in a long time.

"Swap recipes? You cook?" Molly replied back. Clint took it in stride.

"Sure I do. Ron helps sometimes too."

Ron gave a smug grin towards Clint.

"Only on taco night."

"Ta-ko? What in Merlin's name is a taco?"

Clint arched a brow in disbelief.

"Only the best easy to eat mexican food ever."

"Better than churros?"

"Oh don't make me choose," Ron whined. Clint gave a wicked grin. Ron pondered it over for a moment.

"I stand by what I said. Tacos are the best. Because you can eat them anytime. Churros are for dessert."

"A tako?"

"Yes," Ron said entusiastically. Everyone else looked horribly confused, going so far as to pause in their eating as Ron took another bite, "But dad does make the best deep fried vegetables."

Ron missed the hurt expression on Arthur's face as Fred and George asked questions about apparent deep fried vegetables.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure he could contain his excitement for school to start once more now that he was back in the same boring house he had lived almost his entire life in. Number 4 Privet Drive with the same plants, shrubs, hedges and family he had been with for as long as he could remember.

While he initially loathed returning, there was something perplexing about being back. Or rather, there was some _one_ acting perplexing. Dudley had hardly said one word to him. And while this was a relief to Harry, not having to deal with his overly large and rather dimwitted cousin, there was no doubt he would have said something by now. Either to torment him or to get him into trouble, Dudley hadn't done anything.

He had been at a distance, acting odd. He was still doted on by his mother and father, but was speaking a bit less.

Harry couldn't figure it out. But he had more important things to worry about. Like his chores, his homework and the care of his owl Hedwig.

So long as Dudley didn't bother him for a while, he wasn't going to complain.

 **So we have had some Tony time! Dear lord I need practice writing Tony. Ah well, that is something to note. But Hermione gets to have some fun with potions with Bruce and Tony. Hopefully nothing goes wrong. Hopefully. Thankfully, there is JARVIS.**

 **I need a JARVIS in my life.**

 **And we have had a return of the taco mentioned. I blame Venture's Adventure for Takos.**

 **This chapter is brought to you by my new writing assist, Relaxing Video Game Music (N64 Edition) on Youtube by Mimrock. At least for now it is.**


	5. Going home

It took so much energy to last the week at the Weasley Burrow. Being spread so far thin between his biological family and reconnecting with his dad. It was only when night fell and everyone was asleep that he was given any real time of rest, once he was done taking care of Scabbers of course.

Not that he had much to do for Scabbers. He was a rather lazy rat. He should have his dad find a local vet for the lazy old thing. He wanted to make sure he was nice and healthy. Scabbers was his first pet. He was determined to take care of the creature.

Even if his dad didn't care for the rat, he respected the fact it was given to him as a pet by his biological family.

Hence, why he was even bringing the little guy back with him to America.

"You have everything Ron?" Clint asked as they packed his belongings into the trunk of Arthur's car.

"I think so. So, who's driving?"

"That would be me," Arthur answered as he slid into the driver's side of the car. Ron grinned as he slid into the back of the car, his dad taking the passenger side seat. It took him a moment to pick up on the rather odd interior. His reaction however, was quite comical.

"Sweet mother of- what did you do to the interior of this car?" Clint asked seeing a far larger inside than should have existed.

"It's uh, a rather simple enlarging charm really," Arthur answered sheepishly. His eyes darted away before asking, "Would you please not tell my wife about this? She'd be awfully upset if she found out."

"Sure. I won't say anything," Clint responded civilly. Arthur started the car, but left it in park. Clint let out a silent sigh as Ron felt a tad bit confused. He opened his mouth to ask why they weren't leaving when the answer came from the front door of the burrow.

One by one, the other members of the Weasley family filed out to slip into the abnormally spaced car. Ron slid towards the middle, seeing as the Weasleys split into two groups by each of the doors. First the twins, one on either side, then Percy by the window on one side, and Molly followed by Ginny on the other. Ron silently thanked the twins' investment in getting to know him as a buffer from his rather concerned and overbearing biological mother.

"Just had to see you off-" Fred (he assumed) slung his arm over his shoulder.

"-before you skip across the pond and all," George (he logically assumed) added in.

"And to see what all the fuss this "air-plane" is about."

"Ah yes. Commercial air fare," Clint stated dryly, "Nothing quite like it. But, it's not like I can fly a quinjet back home this time."

"Did you get in trouble with Uncle Nick again?" Ron asked raising a brow.

"Nah. Nothing like that. They're all in use right now and after last summer, we don't have the numbers we used to."

"What?" Ginny couldn't help but ask. Ron couldn't see her past George(?) and Molly, but he could assume she was a bit embarrassed she spoke. She hadn't wanted anything to do with his dad this past week. And she seemed like the type of person who was stubborn till the bitter end. Clint took it in stride.

"A lot of planes were destroyed from the attack in New York. And it takes months to build new ones up to standard. So the ones we do have are being used for work only."

"Fascinating. Does it really take that long?"

"Yep. Not to be rude, but we might miss the flight if we don't get going soon. And I'd rather not have to deal with the government," Clint stated. It was a threat all the same. MAGIC agents were waiting at the airport to ensure a smooth transition from Britain to America. Granted, the Ministry of Magic was also there to watch the American agents and make sure they didn't do anything _funny_.

The drive was a bit awkward, Molly seemed a bit disoriented in the back seat with the kids and Arthur kept asking Clint questions about muggle items. But overall, it wasn't a too terrible drive. Even if Clint had to give Arthur directions to the airport.

Upon arriving, the mixture of awe, confusion and in Ron and Clint's case familiarity came to their faces. A MAGIC employee was waiting by the door, no wand to be seen on his person as he stood waiting in a crisp gray suit.

Ron absently wondered if this man didn't use wizarding Magic. But rather sorcerer like Strange was teaching him. He couldn't ask now though. They had a plane to catch.

The hussle and bustle was similar to getting on the train to Hogwarts, only, there was far more security. Granted, muggle he had expected, it was the magical security that had surprised him.

"Anything to declare?"

"Um, do pets count?"

"Is it exotic?"

"He's a rat."

"Then you're fine. Nothing of the _other_ verity?"

"Um I have some books if that's what you mean."

"Sir? Are you alright with a minor illusion enchantment on your son's luggage just in case?"

"And it will do what exactly?" Clint asked warily.

The person didn't seem perturbed and pulled out a small trinket. It looked similar to a luggage ID.

"Your son is carrying luggage we'd rather the whole world not know about. And while we do our best to make sure luggage isn't mixed up when flying, there is always the one case that gets lost every so often. This charm prevents anyone from realizing what's really in here."

Clint gave it a moment of thought.

"Why are you asking then?" He questioned. If it were a law he could understand. But the fact that they asked made him wonder what accepting would mean in the long term.

"He's a minor. And he's also a British born citizen. While it was done in America with your tickets, we have to ask while you're in Britain."

"Sounds complicated."

The person leaned in and said softly, "You have no idea."

"We're getting the charm right dad?"

"Of course. I don't want to be making any more international news do I?" He chuckled darkly.

It was all set. Everything moved like a whirlwind as each of his siblings and his biological parents hugged him and smothered him in their goodbyes. MAGIC agents gathered him and his dad aboard the plane to take them back home. Back to America.

 **Another chapter. Hoo-Ray! Looking forward to what's coming next. Summer~**

 **Fun times in America everybody. As for the rushed Weasley goodbye? Did you guys really want to read about a mushy and gushy and possibly cringe inducing goodbye? That and, I don't really know how I would have made it work without my incredibly busy beta.**

 **I took down the Weasley poll temporarily in favor of a bit of a question. You see, it came to my attention not too long ago that I have ninety nine stories posted here. And well, as the one hundredth I'd like to be memorable at least for me, I'm curious to see what you all would want to see. The poll is on my account and I do hope you check it out.**


	6. Landing and labs

The flight was long, and after time with the Weasleys, Ron all too easily fell asleep on the flight back. His head was tilted towards his dad rather than the window he had been happy to sit next to. Clint read for most of the flight, a book of fairytales for wizarding children in a leather bound book. Beetle Bard it was.

Thankfully, the name wasn't stamped on the outside so he could just wave it off as some classic fairytale if asked.

It was entertaining to say the least to see what counted as fairytales to people who believed but also practiced an ability that a majority of the world didn't believe exist. Because in all fairness, why wouldn't there be a cauldron with a foot when one could have a clock that knows exactly where you are? Wizards were nutty. And stalkerish. He was never telling Fury about that damned clock... Maybe...

Nah. He was sure he'd end up being stuck between Mortal Peril and lost. No use worrying the one eyed leader of SHIELD. And lord only knows what would happen if _Tony_ of all people heard about it. He may not have been too terribly annoying about it, but it was rather clear he wanted to prove that science could do anything magic could do. If it was any indications from some of the questions he had asked Tony about Ron's letters, specifically, the education portion. It was equally maddening and entertaining to hear Tony scoff at some of the things they were learning. Like the light spell.

Not that he thought about it, he felt sorry for Hermione who had left for America one week earlier. Who knew what insanity Tony had tried to drag her and Bruce into?

* * *

"I think whoever came up with this book hated a lot of people," Tony casually remarked as he stood near Hermione watching as she began to create the potion for their final exam. A forgetfulness potion. Whoever came up with that either hated everybody, loved pranks a little too much, or got into a lot of trouble. Tony could have used some of this in his childhood easily. Except when his dad did ignore him- Nope, he was not going there today.

"Well, it does seem a bit impractical to create a potion intended to obscure memory, but I assume it is primarily used on muggles who have seen magic."

"Can't wizards just wave a magic wand and Bipidi Bopidi Boo, it's all forgotten?" Tony sarcastically asked.

"Memory charms are actually rather advanced magic. The school doesn't teach them unless we enter an advanced charms class."

"And how do you know this?"

Hermione blushed furiously. "I may have overheard a few of the older Gryffindors complaining about the charm while doing their homework," she admitted.

"Well, it isn't harmful information," Bruce added into the conversation, "I don't want you to make a habit of it, but if you hear something important, I can't fault you for listening."

"If those students cared who heard they would have been more careful about who could hear them."

"Tony," Bruce began with a warning tone, much like an older brother would to their trouble making younger brother. Tony smirked back at teh more timid scientist.

"It's true. So tell me short stack, how exactly does this work? Jarvis, you are recording aren't you?"

"Of course sir."

Bruce let out a silent sigh but joined Tony in watching Hermione create a potion, seeing the simple but precise requirements she had been using for her potion from her book, looking like something anyone could do.

But there was a certain flourish to it that Hermione seemed to have. Not anything terribly noticable, but there was an energy about it that made it seem natural, even as she used some rather bizarre ingredients.

Tony watched with careful eyes as well, paying close attention he didn't give outside of the lab.

He would figure this nonsense out, one way or another.

* * *

Clint hated flying. Not for the flying itself. He loved using the Quinjets. But landing and customs was always a pain. It didn't help that he and Ron had been picked for a "pat down" and check from the hidden magical agents at the airport.

Now he was even more paranoid of commercial flight. Since when had magical individuals been working for airports?

"Just a routine check. We swear," the lady sighed, "Any produce?"

"No."

"Any ingredients?"

"What? No."

"Any animals, magical or otherwise?"

"My rat Scabbers," Ron commented as he showed the woman the carrier.

"I see. And they just about rushed you on the plane?" The woman sounded utterly annoyed and exhausted.

"Yes?"

"Mmmhm. Well, this is a pain. He'll have to stay here tonight."

"What?"

"Just for safety reasons kid. We need to give him a potion or two to ensure he isn't carrying a disease that could cause problems to our nation. Do you understand?"

"Yes maam." Ron answered sounding a bit forlorn.

"The potions won't take long. Be glad you're on the magical side of things. It's a real nightmare with nonmagical people and their animals."

"Why do you bother to seperate?" Clint asked with a bit of curiousity and concern. Other than the potions, what were they hiding. The woman tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

"Let's just say, most magical individuals travel with equally magical companions. And the last thing we need is for a Nomaj to try and retrieve someone's pet and come face to face with a Bowtrickle or something like that."

"Has that happened before?"

"We've had our moments."

"Okay?"

"You'll take good care of Scabbers right?" Ron interrupted. He may have been raised by a spy, but he was still very much a child worried about his first pet.

"Of course we will. And you'll be able to confirm that when he leaves quarantine tomorrow."

Ron's face bloomed into a large smile.

"Take care Scabbers, we'll be back tomorrow."

With that, Ron and Clint left the room, gathered their luggage, and made their way to their awaiting black chariot. Well, Black car. Clint wasted no time loading Ron's belongings into the vehicle as Ron curiously made his way to the driver's side. The tinted windows rolled down slowly and the brightest grin overtook Ron's face.

"Aunt Tasha!" he called out. His arms and head entering the window and wrapping around the red haired spy. He felt an arm wrap around him as well.

"Good to see you too. Now get in the car so we can get going," she said. Ron practically dove into the car, while Clint took the far more practical approach of just taking the front seat. "Did you enjoy the school."

"It was alright. Nothing like being with here in America," Ron happily replied. _It just wasn't the same as being with his family._

 **A little bit of Hermione and Tony time! Let us get this summer started off right!**


	7. Rats!

**So... Everyone has an idea what this chapter is going to be like eh? We'll see...**

"So why are we still staying at Stark Tower?" Ron inquired. He knew that Uncle Nick no doubt had a base set up for agents for SHEILD by now. And most likely a new flying ship too. So why were they returning to Stark Tower?

"Uncle Nick only has agent rooms set up. Family _quarters_ are still not made yet. So it's either Stark's or a safe house. And I think you'd rather spend time with Hermione than being hidden away somewhere."

Ron nodded his head.

"Can we at least see Auntuncle FitzSimmons and Uncle Phil? It's weird not seeing them for so long," Ron admitted.

"So long as we can catch them off mission alright? They've been pretty busy since last summer."

 _Since Loki's attack._ Ron could feel the chill trickle down his spine. While the time after the attack was wild and insane, he still felt a touch bit wary of the world. He was safe from the darker aspects of the world until Loki arrived in all his gold and green glory.

It was different in the halls of Hogwarts, there was something about the ancient stone halls that promised no harm from beyond its' own secrets.

Wow, he never thought he'd miss a castle that had absolutely no technology... well, except the plumbing. Thank goodness for small miracles.

"Sounds good," Ron finally responded, now turning his head to look out the window. Everyday, people saw this city view as common place, disorganized and chaotic. Ron drank it all in, appriciating the moment he didn't have often enough living above the city.

It didn't take too long to get to the tower, but Ron was bustling with energy from his long nap on the plane and was eager to run around. Maybe do something were Hermione. Afterall, it must've been boring being the only kid around. Ron knew all too well what that was like. At least he wasn't alone. He placed his hand on his lap and felt a small bump from his pocket. He grinned as he remembered the cell phone that Tony Stark had sent over for Christmas to him and his friends.

He knew there was little if any chance that any of the Weasley's would get one charged, or even understand how to use the rapidly changing smart phones. Good thing Tony was insanely rich and the phones were as good as pocket change to him, at least, that was what Ron assumed.

"You coming with us to see Hermione Aunt Tasha?"

"I don't think so. I'm going to grab some water before going to the gym," she answered.

"I'll meet you in a few minutes alright," Clint responded. Natasha gave a slight nod acknowledging Clint's comment, "You gonna watch Ron?"

Ron showed an impish grin. Far older and wiser than he once was, he understood his dad and Aunt would never seriously harm one another.

"Absolutely."

"Maybe this time we'll actually show him how to throw a punch-"

"Natasha," Clint cut off with a low tone, warning her not to overstep her bounds. Natasha didn't say anything more as she left the two to prep for the gym.

* * *

The airport remained busy as people came and went from all of the country and beyond.

Just an average day for the witch in charge of magical animal customs. It was still a bit irritating that more hadn't been done in Britain. But, she knew the rumors about how few wizards and magical folk in general interacted with the non magical community, it was more apparent the truth of the matter with the sheer amount of work she recieved from people coming from across the pond.

Case and point, the animal of the day, a small and rather lazy rat. Brown and unassuming pet. She wasn't even aware that wizards kept rats still as pets or familiars when cats were far more useful pets. Her own lovely Calico Mercy was a prime example.

But who was she to judge. She just had to perform her routine spells and potion administration for the creature to make sure-

"Susanna!"

"Holy fu- Marcus! What the hell?! Don't you know better than to sneak up on someone?"

"And don't you know better than to not cuss out your superiors?" The man questioned. The worker carrying the rat-Susanna- glared.

"What do you want? I'm busy taking this little fella to quarantine."

"Change of plans," he said grabbing the carrier from the woman. "I need you to clean the bathrooms by terminal 1-A."

"Excuse me? Do I look like a janitor?" she hissed. The man snatched the carrier from her hand and gave her a look.

"Look, Dan called off and we really need someone who can make quick work of cleaning the bathrooms. I can't because I have a meeting with the higher ups in a few minutes. Besides, you were a janitor here once."

Oh how she wished she could just pull out her wand and make him ask anybody else. But _no_. She was still on probation from the _last_ time she did that. And she knew that if she didn't do this now, Marcus would make her life hell for at least a month. Looking at the what appeared to be sleeping rat, she made her decision.

"Last time Marcus. And that rat better be seperated."

* * *

Harry, dare he think it, was actually not hating his entire time with his family. For once, he had some control. Every time Dudley approached him with a menacing intent, he just had to remind him of his "You Know What."

Granted, he had only been back at Privet Drive for a week so far, so who knew what the rest of the summer would entail. He would enjoy this semblance of control while it lasted. He wasn't sure when his Aunt Petunia might remember magic for minors wasn't allowed outside of school, making sure to regain the strict order the Dursley house once ran on.

Well, it was still strict. They had well shoved his school supplies into his once bedroom under the stairs. He knew he'd have to sneak down in the middle of the night and get his books and the phone Ron's friend or relative sent them. Most likely a relative when Harry thought about it. The device looked really expensive. He didn't want to really think about what might happen to it if the Dursleys found out. They reacted badly enough when he received a letter from Hogwarts.

Expensive looking phone, or letter to a magical school... Harry wasn't going to take the chance to see the reaction. It was a gift from the best Christmas he could remember. He would do everything he could so he wouldn't lose it.

Even if he couldn't exactly use it. Not without a service like they had for Dudley's new phone.

It was still his. One of the few treasures he had.

* * *

Ron was trying hard not to laugh once he found Hermione. Clint didn't bother to hide his laughter. Hermione looked absolutely flustered and Bruce had a small smile.

Tony's face was covered by a smoky green dusty material that oddly enough reminded Ron of potion's... Class.

Oh.

Ron joined his dad in laughing at the unfortunate billionaire.

"It's not funny," Hermione defended, "I know the method was right, I was doing it along side him. And my potion is fine."

"I don't think it's your fault Hermione. But you have a gift that Tony just doesn't," Bruce comforted.

"Yeah. _Magic_ ," Ron snorted.

"Oh man, please tell me someone was recording this," Clint howled.

"It was recorded for future studying," Jarvis's voice spoke clearly throughout the room.

"Nice!"

"No. Jarvis, keep birdbrain from the footage alright."

"Of course sir."

Clint arched a brow, silently accepting the challenge of finding the footage leading up to this incident. He'd have to get Natasha in on it too as she was in the kitchen missing the madness.

* * *

Ten years. Ten years he had been in hiding. Ten years he had convinced the world he was dead. Or at least Britain.

He wouldn't risk it. No one could know he was still alive. The consequences... They could be unspeakable. He couldn't risk this happening again. Being chased, questioned, _locked up._ Someway or another, he wouldn't let that happen to himself.

He had so far been lucky. The woman who was taking him for quarantine had been dragged off by her boss, a muggle man and he had been handed off to another muggle individual. He had little time.

He was never a _great_ wizard, but he had awe inspiring self preservation skills. Left alone, possible only minutes alone. In a rough motion, he shifted from his predominant form of the past eleven years. The lazy rat shifted to a greasy and unkempt man with matted and ratty hair and disgusting large front teeth. His hands curled a bit, getting used to having his digits again, on his hand, a pinky was missing.

Moving quickly, he grabbed a small disposable cup.

He may have not been a genius, but he wasn't too terrible at transfiguration either. He wouldn't be an animagus if he couldn't do transfiguration.

With a quick and old spell, he transformed the cup into a close image of his rat self. It may buy him time. It may save his life. He placed the rat into the cage, and took the form of a rat once more, scurrying behind tight lockers just as the door opened. The woman was huffing and grumbling.

"That egotistical asshole. Pulling me away from my job for that pissant shit," she grumbled. Her nostrils were flared and she looked ready to hit somebody.

"Like I'm responsible for what men do in the bathroom. Now where is the little rat? Ah ha," she said snatching the rat in the cage. "Time for you to get your _potions._ I'm sure you'll like them," she said sarcastically. With controlled steps that didn't betray her anger towards her coworker and employer.

He wasted no more time slipping into the unknown. A man the world believed long since killed by his old classmate from a _dark_ family. No longer hiding under the hands of the blood traitor family, Peter Pettigrew was out running in the streets of the United States.

 **Uh oh. Say what you want about that nasty rat, but he has a will to live that surpasses logical explanation. And truthfully, while he may not have been nearly as good at magic as James, Sirius or Remus, Pettigrew would have to have at least decent transfiguration with being an animagus.**

 **I have a feeling I have made some enemies in the fandom. How he should've been caught and all that... But at this time, the rat still scurries freely.**

 **Oh, and as for the OCs, fairly minor. They may have one or two more appearances at most in the story. Cause you know. _Rats._**


	8. Start of summer

It had been hard for Ron to fall asleep that night. What with jet lag and the fact he slept on the plane was keeping him wide awake. Not to mention Hermione telling him all about the time she had spent in Tony's labs apparently doing hands on potions work. Apparently, Tony wanted to know how it was possible that one person could do something identical to the person next to them, but one getting a magical potion and the other getting what seemed to be the equivalent of an obscure and expensive stink bomb.

Ron could only assume it had something to do with magic in general but what did he know. He had only begun to really learn about his magic not long ago. What did he really know about a person's apptitude or not? He was twelve for goodness sake.

These were the thoughts keeping him awake, eventually leading to his drifting off into sleep sometime late into the night. Waking up the next day to a rather open and empty room had been a bit of a shock, but easily overcome. Just because he had been used to small rooms or rooms with other people, did not mean the large gold and red room would freak him out.

It was going to be a good day. It didn't matter what the weather was, or what exactly he would be doing. He was with his dad and his Aunt Tasha. With that mindset, he set off to find his dad, to go to the airport and pick up Scabbers.

With a grin on his face and excitement thrumming through him, he made his way to figuring out where exactly the kitchen was again.

Entering the kitchen he expected to have some cereal or perhaps have his dad waiting and sipping some coffee. What he got was his dad on the phone looking utterly constipated and uncomfortable.

Ron frowned but made his way to his dad and stood next to him. He tried to listen in. But the soft voices only gave way to mumbles and apologies. He waited a moment more when his dad hung up the phone with a hasty goodbye. He rubbed hie eyes with one hand and used the other to pull Ron into a one armed hug. Ron wrapped his arms around his dad returning the impromptu hug.

"Something wrong dad?" Ron asked knowing his mannerisms.

"Yeah. But first, ice cream."

"For breakfast?"

Clint paused for a moment.

"We'll have them with waffles."

"Dad. What's wrong?"

Clint sighed and tightened his grip on Ron.

"That was the airport."

"Are they ready for us to get Scabbers?"

"Ron, there is no easy way to say this. But Scabbers is no longer with us," Clint explained vaguely. Ron frowned and felt his eyes begin to prick with hot, salty tears. His nose began to burn slightly in the way it normally did when he tried not to cry. Both his dad's arms were wrapped around Ron now and Ron put both of his arms around his dad.

He buried his face into his dad's chest.

"He's dead?"

"The trip, seemed to be a bit too much for the old rat is all Ron." With that, tears began to cascade out of his eyes and onto his dad's shirt. Clint rubbed his back in comforting circles as Ron mourned the death of his pet rat. The tears became sniffles after about five minutes, but he held onto his dad, relishing the warmth and protection he offered by just being there.

"Better Ronnie?"

"I-I think so," Ron said letting go of Clint and stepping back a bit with Clint lowering his arms. "He really was an old rat."

"Was he? You haven't even had him for a year," Clint commented innocently. Ron let out a watery chuckle.

"Yeah. But Percy had him for _years_ after Charlie found him apparently. They took him in not too long before you found me."

Clint raised a brow but didn't say anything.

"I think I'd like that ice cream now dad."

"And waffles. Because it's breakfast time."

"Right," Ron agreed as he rubbed away the lingering stray tears in his eyes.

"And tonight, we binge movies. I say... Charlie and the Chocolate factory. And Lilo and Stitch."

"And Aladin?"

"Sure. I'm sure nobody will mind."

* * *

Hermione was thrilled to no longer be the only magic user in Tony's rather large tower. As much as she enjoyed getting ahead in her school work and showing off her knowledge and prowess in magic it was a bit irritating to have Tony watch meticulously and trying to recreate the same effects of magic. At the potions.

Ron was a welcomed distraction, especially with his private lessons with Doctor Strange. A lesson that took place outside the tower she was going to as well.

While he had told her before he was only working with Ron, she was certain he would make an exception with her stellar grades at Hogwarts showing how good she was already at magic.

"Doctor Strange is a really good teacher. But he keeps you on the same spell for a long time Mione. You sure you want to ask?" Ron asked one last time on the car ride over the home of Doctor Strange with Clint driving.

"Absolutely. I can't wait to learn."

Ron gave a small smile as he fiddled with his gloves, enjoying their silky softness.

"We're here you two."

"Thanks dad. We'll call you when we're done."

"What are you talking about? I'll just be parked out front for when you're done. Besides. Did you even remember to bring your cell phone?" Clint asked. Ron blushed a little as Hermione, ever responsibly showed hers.

"No," Ron answered sheepishly as his ears began to burn. Clint pulled out his own phone and fiddled with it for a bit.

"It's still in your bedroom isn't it?"

"Yes," Ron said dropping his head. He then lifted it with a curious look on his face.

"Are you tracking my phone?"

"... _Maybe."_

"Da-ad!" Ron whined.

"What? You keep loosing it," Clint argued.

"Ugh," Ron groaned, "Let's go Mione, at least Doctor Strange doesn't make fun of me when I lose something."

Hermione did her best to hide her chuckle as she and Ron slid out of the car and made their way to the well hidden Sanctum Sanctorum of Doctor Strange.

 **For those who are interested, I did make a community dedicated to the stories for this "universe". It has the stories I have written, the stories I am writing, and will have the stories that I will write. It also has stories that exist with the universe's canon, or follow a similar idea or format.**

 **As for ice cream waffles, this is a breakfast I occasionally do with my little sister. Our little nerd breakfast for emotional moments. It's fun. Our combinations are cinnamon waffles with melted butterscotch chips and vanilla ice cream, and buttermilk waffles with melted chocolate chips, and either mint or black raspberry ice cream. And for the pet thing, short lived pets that leave little impact, give me a similar emotional reaction.**


	9. Limits of what to teach

Doctor Stephen Strange believed himself to be a somewhat reasonable man. A man well rooted in logic, both of the scientific world, and his calling in the magical communities. Sure he could be a bit bull headed and as Wong never forgot to remind him, a bit of a know it all. But he studied to be prepared for all scenarios from demons to interdimensional travelers. Even taking on the young Ron Barton as his apprentice was something he prepared for after meeting the young magic user.

What he didn't count on however, was his little friend, standing next to him at the entrance of the Sanctum. He internally sighed but welcomed the two inside. He recalled the young girl had attempted to gleen knowledge while he was teaching Ron. Something he had hoped was a more permanent idea than the now seemingly temporary notion. This could end two different ways. She could quietly observe and attempt the magic he was teaching young Ron, or she could request his teachings. He hoped she would be quiet. But had a feeling she would be demanding.

Well, worst case scenario, it would prove to be an interesting lesson in magic beyond the selectivism often used in the common place in Europe.

"Hello Ron. Enjoy the flight back from Europe?" He asked civilly.

"I slept through most of it," Ron admitted with a chuckle. He looked back at his frizzy haired friend, "I hope you don't mind, but Hermione wanted to come too."

"So long as she's not a distraction, I don't see why not," he responded diplomatically. The bait set to see why she was there and how she'd respond. His eyes caught her practically jumping to the bait as she interjected.

"Actually, I was top of my class at Hogwarts," she began with an all too familiar glimmer in her eyes. "I am very apt at magic and was hoping you would teach me as well."

It wasn't so much a question as it was a demand. The girl seemed expectant with her declaration. Most likely used to putting in hard work and academia reaping a more tangible reward from adults.

He was a lot like this when he was still an active and licensed neurosurgeon. It wasn't bad to equate hard work to a benefit. But life was hardly ever that fair.

"I will not be teaching you my dear. For one, I have agreed to have Ron as my apprentice. I do not plan to take on anymore."

"I wouldn't get in your way-!"

"Secondly, I'm afraid your magic just isn't compatible with what I'm teaching Ron."

"Pardon?"

"Does this have to do with the other magics you were telling me about last Christmas?" Ron asked furrowing his own brow in confusion, no doubt certain that Strange would have allowed Hermione to join in on the teachings.

"Exactly so Ron. Just as you and I have magic far better suited for sorcery, your friend-"

"Hermione."

"-Hermione has a different magical presence."

"But Ron's a wizard and I'm a witch. Shouldn't you be able to teach both us?" She asked with desperation dripping from her tone. Strange's expression didn't falter under her tone. He held his hands in front of himself and gathered his magic in front of him. Large and intricate circles appeared in the air. Power seemed to radiate off them in a foreign manner. Something rich and bold and within the Sanctum, clearly _felt_ different from the magic they used in Hogwarts. He half wondered why he never noticed it before as he could see Hermione shiver for a moment as Strange made the magical circles dissipated.

"Did that magic feel like the magic you were taught in school?"

Hermione didn't seem able to speak, dumbfounded by whatever spell he had just used. None of the books she had read covered something like that beyond minor glamors. And whatever he just did, didn't feel like how the books described glamors as far as she could recall.

"This magic isn't the wizardry you have young lady. It's sorcery, a shared type of magic both Ron and I have. A magic you don't. One that you just can't learn."

Hermione's eyes grew misty and she seemed just about ready to turn tail and leave the Sanctum Sanctorum with her high running emotions at the dismissal. Sturdy hands though clasped her shoulder and held her firmly in place.

"That being said, I do have a feeling you might not just have wizarding magic. If I may," he said guiding her further into the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ron followed with great interest. Sure he had his own magic, and Strange had mentioned the others once before, but were they really different?

Weaving through the ever changing halls, they soon entered a familiar room. The same room he had first met Doctor Strange. The candles flickered to life at Strange's mere presence. He he patted the ground and the two sat. He pulled a large book from thin air, opening it in a theatrical manner.

"Take a deep breath, and empty your mind-"

"Like meditation?"

"Very much so."

"I've never meditated before-"

"Then this shall be a new experience. Relax. And just. Breathe."

Hermione closed her eyes, eager to please the intellectual man before her. Ron kept his eyes open, not quite sure what to do. Strange didn't tell him to close his eyes, so he didn't. Strange glanced in his direction and showed a small smirk. He made a small gesture with his hands, moving them in a circular motion creating a gold ring of magic. Ron jumped when Strange stuck his hand through it and it vanished. It did come back though, with a box in hand. He grimaced at the thing as the magical gold ring disappeared and he opened the box. He first pulled out a thin and narrow stick, all to similar to the wands used at Hogwarts. He delicately laid it next to Hermione who was doing her best to follow instructions despite her curiosity.

Strange spoke an incantation that echoed off the walls making what Ron knew as clear sounds, indistinguishable. Then, from the wood next to her, Ron could hear some sort of thrumming noise. Hermione wiggled a bit and Strange put a hand on her shoulder.

"Concentrate." It wasn't so much a request as a demand. She let out a shaky sigh but continued with the held position, her eye lids growing tight as she clenched them shut. Strange waited and didn't perform anything else until she relaxed. Once she had, he casually pulled out a silvery ring, one that shimmered and reminded him oddly enough of his gloves. He reincantated the spell and held the ring before her. Unlike the wood which thrummed at her side, the ring remained silent.

Ron looked at his teacher who didn't seem the least bit surprised. Strange gave a passing glance, then switched the ring out in the box, now holding a branch. It didn't appear like a wand. Just a normal tree branch with green leaves attached and bright red berries. Kind of reminded Ron of Christmas movies. Was that stuff mistletoe? Again, Strange gave the incantation. Just like with the ring, nothing happened. A raised brow appeared on his face making Ron wonder what it meant.

With a small smile creeping onto his face as his brow lowered, he placed the branch back inside, and pulled out what Ron could only hope was the most peculiar item in the box.

A snake's skin. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't little flakes either. Ron wasn't quite sure if it was the fact he had never really seen a snake up close before, discluding any Slytherins of course, or something more of the magical persuasion which, all things considered, wouldn't have surprised him either.

Strange stated the incantation one more time, and unlike the last two objects, this one began to make noise. Not like the oddly pleasant thrumming of the wood next to Hermione, but a shrill hissing noise that gave Ron goosebumps. Hermione however, didn't seem bothered in the least.

"Well, not quite the one I was expecting but there's no denying it," Doctor Strange spoke bringing Hermione out of her self meditation in surprise. As her eyes opened, both the wood and the snakeskin grew silent.

"What just happened?" Hermione questioned. She noticed the wood at her side rather quickly, and looked thoroughly confused at the snakeskin in Strange's hand.

"Just confirming your magic. Predominantly wizardry, like Ron. But you seem to have a higher capacity for it. As for your secondary magic, congratulations. You have Voodoo."

"Excuse me? What does that mean?"

"It's just another branch of magic, one I dare say, I cannot use, more or less teach."

"But how would I learn it's? What exactly is it? How is it different from what they were teaching at Hogwarts? "What-"

"All important questions I'm sure. But one step at a time. You will need to alert your guardian of your secondary magic. Then, you may take the appropriate steps to finding a suitable mentor."

"How would I go about doing that?"

Ron took a small step back as he could see irritation grow on Strange's face.

"I would suggest going through MAGIC. Now if you excuse me, I need to begin Ron's lesson. You may stay until the end of the lesson. Come along you two."

"So what are we doing today?"

"You're moving on from jars. You'll be working on sealing a room for protection."

"Same spell?"

"Sorcery isn't like wizardry. Both take strength and discipline. But sorcery takes a bit more focus since we don't utilize a uniform method to guide it, it requires a bit more study. Once I'm confident you have it down, we will move onto the next spell."

"Did it take you this long to learn?" Ron grumbled. Strange chuckled at Ron's surliness.

"No. I also had a bit of a more aggressive teacher. Left me on a mountain top to figure out how to use the sling ring," he added dryly.

 **While I get requests on having a Strange teach Hermione, Harry or Neville alongside Ron, I have had reasons why I don't. Hermione's case, different magic type. Like each wizard has a different wand, so does each magic user have a different balance of magic. It is not that I don't think she could theoretically do well under Strange, but he had hardly a conventional learning of magic himself. This little plan has been thought of from pretty early on in the thought process. So Strange has now explained it. Goodness gracious.**


	10. Family for the better times

Hermione seemed distraught with the magical news. She was unaware of what it truly meant, but Ron at least knew what Strange was trying to tell her. He wouldn't be able to teach her magic. He commented some time back he had sorcerer and some other, was it Druid magic? And with the little spell thing that just happened, Hermione was a witch, well clearly, and used Voodoo magic.

Ron wasn't sure exactly what that would entail for Hermione, but she seemed rather disappointed and forlorn.

"Ya know, we can still work on our Hogwarts schooling together Mione. You're really good at it."

"Ron, you just don't get it," she huffed as she quickly made her way out of the car and into the elevator, no doubt to head to her and Bruce's floor. Ron hoped she would mention something to Bruce. He didn't like it when people were moody. And he had little doubt that Hermione was going to be moody until she could learn something. She was rather eager to learn.

Well, he somewhat understood. He may not have liked school work, but after living a life of science, secrets and espionage so close and yet so far from his life, magic was something new and exotic that his dad nor his aunts or uncles could learn. Hermione just was more eager to learn.

"She'll be fine Ron. She just needs some time."

"Okay."

"In the mean time, I have a little surprise for you."

"Eh? A surprise? What is it?" Ron asked eagerly. Clint's lips peeled back to an impish grin.

"Now what kind of surprise would it be if I told you?"

" _Dad_ ," he whined. Clint chuckled as he began to drive. "Not in the tower surprise?"

"Let's just say Tony really shouldn't know about it."

"Is it home stuff?"

"Kind of. Trust me Ron, it's going to be well worth it."

"Don't worry dad. I'll always trust you."

* * *

Harry Potter sat in his room in Surrey in utmost quiet, attempting to do his school work while the Dursleys were asleeep. Well, at least Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Since he got back from Hogwarts, he noticed Dudley staying up later. He kept as quiet as could be to avoid getting caught by the youngest Dursley. He hadn't been playing on his computer or watching the Telly as far as he could tell. While being awake he had been oddly quiet.

He was _never_ quiet. Even in his sleep he was a heavy breather and occasional snorer.

Was it because Harry had begun to learn magic and he was _afraid_ of him? His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had already made their fear and objection of magic well known. But did Dudley fear him for having it?

Harry didn't know if he necessarily liked the feeling or not. It was almost like a fact of life. The sky was blue, the grass is green, magic is real, and Dudley didn't like Harry. Well, so long as it kept him out of trouble, Harry could live with it.

* * *

"So what's the surprise?" Ron whined as Clint's hands covered his eyes and began leading him into the building they had pulled up to. It was a large and easily ignorable and mundane warehouse like every other mundane warehouse he had ever seen. But his dad was anything but mundane.

"You'll see," Clint chuckled, opening the door and bringing Ron inside. Warm hands left his face and Clint stage whispered, "Open."

Ron opened his eyes slowly, preparing for however bright the warehouse was. He nearly jumped out of his skin in delight seeing two familiar and well missed individuals.

"Auntuncle FitzSimmons!" He called out running towards them at full speed. He wrapped his thin and wiry arms around the two in as tight a hug as he could manage. He felt them both put a hand on his back returning the hug and a hand patted his head. He assumed it was his Uncle Fitz. He was almost always the most awkward of the brilliant pair.

"Aw, we missed you too Ron."

"Wasn't the same without you magically messing with our experiments."

Ron stifled a giggle as happy tears welled in his eyes.

"That was one time."

"Pretty memorable though. I think I still have those socks..."

"Fitz!"

"What? It was a _breakthrough_ wasn't it?"

"Unbelievable."

Ron pulled his arms off the pair and they let go as well. A large smile was plastered on Ron's face as Clint watched. He got along fine with the odd science duo, but they were family to Ron. And by this point, more like awkward cousins if anything to Clint. Strange what having a kid will do with your work relations.

"I missed you so much."

"We did too Ron. You'll have to tell us everything you've been up to."

"And you guys?"

"Classified Ron. You just don't have high enough clearance for those shenanigans."

"Aw..."

"Trust me Ron," Clint interjected, "There are some things you just don't want to know."

"Is Uncle Phil all right at least?"

"Yeah. He is. And he's sorry he couldn't make it. He's a bit _busy_ at the moment."

"Okay. So I now go to a school in England..."

* * *

Hermione had been pacing back and forth attempting to organize just what she wanted to articulate to Bruce. He wasn't her parents, and despite being under his legal care for a year, she had spent more time with the teachers at Hogwarts than she had with him. And while her mind had been focused on learning as much magic as she could, she didn't know if her guardian would agree. She knew he at least approved or allowed her to go to Hogwarts. Was that because it was in a familiar country or was it because he very much approved of her learning?

It almost seemed easier to ask Mr. Stark. But it wasn't his permission she needed.

With that in mind, she knocked on his bedroom door and waited. She didn't hear anything and wondered just where Bruce was. Or if he were taking a nap. She huffed in irritation. What to do?

"Might I assist you Miss Granger?" A disembodied British voice inquired making Hermione jump. She looked around for a moment before recalling Mr. Stark's AI built into the tower.

"Oh um uh, yes. I was wondering if you knew where Bruce would be?"

"He is currently in his lab."

"Thank you," Hermione responded meekly. How was she supposed to interact with a computer? Heck, before Hogwarts she barely knew how to interact with her peers!

"It is not a problem Miss Granger."

With fierceness of a young lion, she made her way towards the entrance of Bruce's lab. Nothing gained by standing by. Perhaps not the lesson she was supposed to learn at Hogwarts, but it was how they got to the Stone...

In little time, she made it to Bruce's lab hearing rather faintly, classical music With a tentative knock, she waited for her guardian to appear. The music was silenced and the door opened revealing her exhausted guardian.

"Hello Hermione. Is there something I can help you with?" He began, "More potions?"

"Not now. I was just wondering if I could get a teacher. For my magic that is."

"Are you having trouble? You seemed to be doing really well."

"It's not that. It's just, Ron's teacher said he couldn't teach me because I had a different type of magic. I want to learn more about it," she explained passionately. Bruce blinked and let out a tired sigh. Hermione tensed fearing he would say no.

"Let's go talk to Tony."

"Excuse me what?"

"Tony has been curious about your abilities and he's been pulling all the information he can about it. No doubt he has an in or an idea on how to find you a mentor for-"

"Voodoo."

"What? Like the religion?"

"It's possible. They never mentioned it at Hogwarts."

* * *

Ginny loved having her brothers home with her from Hogwarts. It was refreshing to have Fred and George pulling pranks on Percy and making entertaining mischief. It made everything right in the world. Just like it had felt a year ago. The only thing that ruined this sense of normalcy and calm...

"Want to put anything in the letter Gin? We're about to send it!"

Letters to Ron. It was hardly fair. They never sent _her_ letters when they were at Hogwarts. And now they were sending someone they hadn't even really known a year letters? Sure he was their missing brother but it wasn't fair. She doubted he even wanted the letters. He had been thrilled to be back with Mr. Barton, what made them think that he would want anything to do with them? And what was wrong with leaving well enough alone? They were happy without him. Worried, but happy. And he seemed _plenty_ happy without them.

She would deny it kind of hurt. Whether it was from not receiving letters or Ron's happiness without them, she didn't know.

She just wanted to ignore it.

"I don't right now," she replied a bit hotly.

"Alright then Gin."

* * *

That night, gathering for dinner was a bit of an event. Ron was deliriously happy, having spent time with his AuntUncle FitzSimmons. Hermione was almost vibrating in excitement as Bruce had talked to Tony about a teacher and he agreed with no hesitation. Natasha sat quietly between Bruce and Clint while Steve was off exploring on his new motorcycle and Thor the alien God was off world.

"So I'll take tiny rage to find a teacher-"

"Tony. I'm going too. As her guardian-"

"Right right-"

"Pass the salt Mione?"

"Honestly Ron, the Shwarma is salty enough."

"Well maybe yours is-"

"Kids."

"Sorry Dad."

"Sorry Mr. Barton."

"Lighten up Clint. At least no one is throwing Poptarts."

"What?" Ron asked impishly.

"Or making exploding smoothies."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione gasped.

"Thor and Steve. Day one in the tower before dragging Loki back."

"That's completely immature!"

"Well, we're not exactly the most mature group," Clint smirked, "We kind of just met and decided to kick Loki where it hurt."

Hermione's eyes fell downward slightly. She tried not to think about the fact her parents were gone, or that an alien mad man had been responsible for their deaths, by burying herself into her school work and knowledge in general.

"Weren't you hit where it hurt too?" Natasha added quickly.

"Worst part about that is having to thank you for it."

Hermione showed a small smile at the comment. Ron stuffed his face, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pit forming in his stomach remembering how he was told about his dad's possession. Imagining the foggy blue green eyes made him feel slightly queasy. He shook it off quickly though, focusing on the good times and discussion at the table, enjoying time with his _family._

 **So sorry this took so long to update, but I had to make sure I had all my plot bunnies in a row before continuing on. And had to acknowledge my beta sister is friends with someone who actually practices the Voodoo religion and alerts me I am walking on thin ice with the concept. Now, I wouldn't get rid of the magic, it's a part of my story, but your opinion, should I delve into the name a bit deeper? Like Voodoo being slang rather than an actual title.**

 **As you all can imagine I have been driving myself mad trying to organize all this. But I have posted it before my birthday so that's always a plus.**


	11. Denied

**A moment of silence for the passing of Stan Lee. May his legendary Cameos in heaven be great. He is not alone though. Richard Harris has long since passed, as has Alan Rickman. All great individuals from Marvel's epic comics to Harry Potter.**

MAGIC was considered the youngest government based magical group worldwide. It was the the most progressive though in it's acceptance of a multitude of magical growths and applications.

Something Dr. Cracknel appreciated and simultaneously was annoyed with. On the one hand, magical remedies were perhaps the easiest to come by in the Americas, on the other hand, the acknowledgment of mixed magics proved to be not only difficult in teaching, but disastrous for many young students.

He was a firm believer that children needed to learn their magic at a young age, but also that they needed to be absolutely focused in one unless it could effect their health.

It was under this idea he had turned down many students. No threat or money would waver his conviction.

So when he was approached after one of his classes by two men, both lacking in any magic and a young girl who seemed to be a witch, given her holding of her wand, he readied himself for an argument. It couldn't have been a Druid. Had to be a witch.

"Excuse me," the mousier man called out. Dr. Cracknel held a bored expression.

"If you're looking for the front desk just turn around and take a right. I'm sure you'll be able to find it," he stated dryly. The girl looked ready to speak but was cut off by the more confident male.

"You're Doctor Cracknel?"

The man _oozed_ confidence. God dammit. They were always pains in the ass.

"Well that's what I've been told since I got my Doctorate."

"So you are the guy-"

"Up-ah-ah! I'm going to stop you right there. Let me guess, you two are taking care of your little princess here and found out she was a special little magical girl and you want her to learn everything now right?"

"Actually, it was my idea," the girl stated as the the mousy man sputtered.

"And I am not seeing Tony."

"Ah Bruce. I thought what we had was special."

"Tony," the man sighed.

"Don't really care. Point is she's a witch right?"

"Why yes. I was accepted to-"

"Again, don't really care," he interrupted, "You are clearly more a witch than anything else. So why are you here?"

"To learn of course."

"Listen kid, I get fifty to sixty kids a year who request me personally to help them learn their dominate magic. Why should I teach you when you're still learning your own witchcraft?"

"I was the top of my class," she begins excitedly, "I've worked on the spells and they have all proven simple. And since I've learned I could perform Voodoo-"

"Stop. Just stop right there," Dr. Cracknel growled, " _Voodoo_ isn't a magic. It's slang. If you couldn't have even been bothered to learn-"

"Hold off. She's just a kid," the mousy one defended.

"A supposedly _intelligent_ child asking to learn something they don't even know what it's called."

"Then what is it called?" the girl responded equally curious and haughtily. Dr. Cracknel glared at the girl.

"It is called _mAyA,"_ he responded irritably adding the needed stress on the vowels. "Voodoo is slang for the perceived use of it. If you came here thinking you were going to learn how to make voodoo dolls and other enchantments like you see in movies child, you have another thing coming."

"Then teach me what it does," she half begged.

"I have more pressing matters than to teach a girl with a fleeting curiosity. Good day."

"Hold on a minute," the braver man- Tony was it?- interrupted.

"How about a second. Times up. Good. Day."

With that, Doctor Cracknel turned heel and left the trio behind. He didn't have time for such individuals. The last thing he expected was a hand to grab his shoulder.

"Bit rude to leave before the conversation before it's over."

"I believe I was clear I was done with the discussion."

"You're really going to turn away an eager kid who actually wants to learn?"

"Does she? Or does she just want to show off? Show she's better because she has _more_ than others?"

"Why don't you take her on and find out?"

"I have neither the resources nor time for her."

"How much would it take to cover your resources then?" Tony asked in a snarky tone.

"Are you trying to _buy me off_? You arrogant tosser! You can't bribe me. You want magical advice for the kid? Tell her to focus on what she has and be grateful for it."

And with a flick of his wrist, a small drops of a potion fell to the floor creating a thick wall of blue smoke and disappeared into another room. Good riddance.

* * *

"You've come far the protection spell Ron. Are you ready for your next set?"

"Set? I thought you were doing it one spell at a time. Not that I- um, mind or anything."

"You were busy with your overseas education. It's best to work on more while you are here and I can more readily assist you should anything go wrong."

"Like if I get hurt?"

"Exactly. Magical ailments tend to be harder to treat than normal injuries. Usually."

"Makes sense. So what are we learning?"

"You'll be learning a simple retrieval spell and its' counterpart."

"Like grabbing and pushing?" Ron asked sounding confused.

"Exactly. Put your gloves on and recite the first spell, _praeripio."_

Ron slid on the Agromantula silk gloves and muttered the word.

"I'd like you to try it on this newspaper," Strange stated as he placed the plastic wrapped papers on the table before them. "Speak with conviction, hold out your hand in front of you, a bit outstretched towards it as it is your first time. And hand away from your face."

" _Praeripio,_ " he called out. Unlike with the jar where little seemed to happen, the paper shot out quickly, hitting his hand and dropping to the floor before he could grasp it.

"Ow."

"We'll need to work on that."

 **Fresh virtual cake for anyone who can figure out Dr. Cracknel. His identity or connection that is...**

 **It would also show Strange's lack of truly in depth working of the various magic considering how late he entered the magical game himself.**

 **Mystic arts: hint it's not in Stan Lees Marvelous Universe**

 **God dammit would you stop trying to give spoilers.**


	12. The confident downfall

"Doctor Strange told me that he wants me to come by tomorrow to work on the spells. Apparently the spells are a little more dangerous than the protection spell."

"How dangerous are we talking Ron?" his dad asked with slight worry in his voice, "I'd rather not find you missing your eyebrows or something."

"I didn't lose my eyebrows dad. And I think it's more to avoid hitting my head with paper and pillows. Or breaking glass..."

"Just what are you doing Ron?"

"Grabbing and pushing things. Just think, once I get really good, I can use it to grab your arrows."

"Hehe. No. Not using that to grab my arrows."

"Dad," Ron whined with a slight grin coming to his face, just knowing what his dad was going to say.

"You'll poke your eye out!"

" _Dad_!"

"Do you know how many kiddos I see going to the hospital because they used magic to bring arrows to them?" Ron snorted at his dad's melodramatic moment. " _None!_ Because they have parents who love them!"

"Okay, okay dad. I won't use the spell on the arrows. Promise."

"That's my boy."

Ron let out a snort.

"Oh, think that's funny?" Clint said with a manic grin.

"Wait dad no!" Ron shrieked as strong fingers began to mercilessly tickle his sides. Laughter peeled out of him as he fell to the carpeted floor.

"Well isn't this adorable."

"Aunt Tasha," Ron laughed, his arms wrapped around his stomach trying to protect himself from the onslaught, "Help!"

Natasha raised a brow. "Anyone care to tell me what brought this on?"

"He thought it was funny when I gave him a new rule."

"What rule?"

"No attracting sharp pointy objects."

"With magic!" Ron specified.

"Enjoy your punishment Ron," Natasha said with a slightly smug grin. Another shriek came out of Ron. Yet, he wouldn't have had it any other way. Clint only stopped the onslaught when the elevator doors opened with an irritated Tony, a tired Bruce and a determined Hermione stepping out, a book held tightly in her arms.

"So how'd it go?" Clint asked as Ron stabilized his breathing. He graciously accepted his dad's hand to help him upright.

"Fantastic," Tony snarked dryly, "But you have a beginner's book and with Bruce and I with you, shouldn't be a problem."

Ron looked confused. What were they doing? Clint seemed to figure out their plan sooner and looked slightly grim.

"Dad?"

Clint refocused back onto Ron with a slight grin. He poked Ron's ribs making him jump back with a shriek. He tore off into a sprint as Clint cackled behind him. Silently watching at a distance, Natasha asked Jarvis to record the small bout of innocent fun. She'd send it to Fury and Coulson later.

* * *

"We'll show him. How hard can it be?" Tony commented as Hermione looked over her book for the first technique.

"It's a potion. I received decent marks in potions at Hogwarts," she commented with enthusiasm. While Snape was a difficult teacher to please, she fought to achieve the highest marks possible in the class. A beginner's potion shouldn't be too difficult. Tony gave a roguish grin while Bruce began reading more in depth into the books purchased.

He watched as Tony and Hermione showed similarities. Both were curious and held a prideful streak.

When denied information, they would delve headfirst themselves into it. It was nice, in a strange sort of way. Bruce wasn't by any means terribly close to Hermione with just learning about her before she left for boarding school and the worries of the Hulk forever looming in his mind.

"Well then, let's get started."

Bruce went back to the book, trying to understand Hermione's gift.

* * *

"Rice Ron!"

"On it dad! Hey Jarvis, where is the rice?"

"Third door on the left. Second shelf up."

"Thank you Jarvis."

"Hope everyone's hungry. Otherwise I'll have made too much meat and peppers."

"Dad, one can never have too much meat or peppers for tacos."

"Oh yeah? Remember when you were five and I brought home all that ground beef-"

"And I through it all in the pan for tacos!"

"Five pounds of meat for tacos. I had to hand out taco meat to agents for weeks."

"Only because they didn't trust you. Aunt Tasha, Uncle Fury, and Uncle Phil tell me lots of stories of you prancing people."

"Just wait until you hear all of what I've done to Tony and the other guys. Nobody saw anything coming."

"Dad they hardly knew you."

"All's fair Ronnie."

As Ron grabbed the rice, he felt a twinge in his chest. His dad called him Ronnie quite a bit. Just as much as Ron. So why was he thinking of the twins across the pond who picked up a similar nickname?

"You alright Ron?"

"Mm fine dad."

He walked over to Clint and handed over the rice. Unsure of his emotions, he leaned into his dad. Clint immediately wrapped his free arm around Ron and gave a light squeeze.

"You know I'm here for you. Always."

"I know. I think the meat is starting to burn."

Quick as a whip, Clint rushed over and lowered the heat a touch, then began moving the meat about making sure it wouldn't burn or stick to the pan.

Ron whipped out his phone and took a picture of his dad with his seldom used phone from Tony, running frantically about the kitchen trying to keep things from burning or just trying to prep. He sent the picture to Neville, who may or may not know how to work the cell phone Tony pretty much got for everyone he knew last Christmas. He also sent one to Harry who he knew that for all intents and purposes should know how a cell phone works given he lived in a muggle household like he did. Strange he never answered back...

"Could you get the plates out Ron? I'm sure everyone is going to want to come and eat."

"And if they don't?"

"Just use your baby blues on them and-"

Clint never did finish his sentence as a pop echoed through the room as what looked to be agents appeared out of thin air. Clint grabbed a knife and stood between Ron and the magical individuals.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Apologies sir. We received a medical alert due to extraneous underage magic."

"Excuse me-?"

Before Clint could get an answer from the magical individuals, Tony and Bruce came rushing out the door he had seen them leave through to go to one of the labs. On a mechanical stretcher behind them was-

"Hermione!" Ron screamed.

 **And this is why, no matter how smart you think you are, you shouldn't try something potentially dangerous without proper supervision. Granted, it's not like it's the first time she has ever done potions or anything but...**

 **Yeah.**


	13. The still of the moment

Ron had never really been in a hospital before. Magical or otherwise to his recollection. SHIELD had been good about having him medically up to date with check ups and vaccinations. And the medical wing in Hogwarts hardly counted. it was a school's very well set up nurse's office for all the boarding students. So, well, everybody there.

And now here he was with a worried and active Bruce and a distraught and possibly frustrated Tony. His dad sat next to him as a steady anchor, saying that Hermione would be fine. She was trying something at a beginner level. He doubted beginner level material would be life crippling if it was easy to buy the instructions.

In theory at least. Clint wrapped his arm around Ron's shoulder in a comforting manner as they waited for news from the Doctors. Clint vaguely noticed a man walking with purpose looking slightly irritated make his way towards the emergency area. He didn't quite stand out with his mousy brown hair and slight stubble. Average build, a little on the heavier side. Not quite pale skin but certainly not dark.

If not for the hard look in his eyes Clint knew all too well from working at SHIELD, he would have probably ignored him. Certainly a man on a mission and he seemed to think whatever he was going into he had a slight connection making it more personal.

"Doctor Cracknel? What are you doing here? I thought-"

"Doctor Page is busy out of state. I was closer."

"Um, of course sir."

"What's the room number?"

"Four."

"Is there a cauldron set up?"

"Yes sir."

"Any knowledge of the potion that landed them here?"

"According to the guardian, color changing potion."

"Any knowledge of which one?" He asked as he left through the double doors down to one of the private medical sections. One that wasn't quite bad enough to count as an emergency, but one where the doctor would have to work rather quickly and apparently ideally alone in order to administer the treatments. At least, that was what Ron understood.

Clint's face relaxed a touch. Tony and Bruce had admitted that they had been working on a color changing potion and that had caused the accident. So with the doctor rushing in to deal with a color changing incident within the emergency room, it was probably to help Hermione.

Ron leaned into his dad and felt a stong arm wrap around his shoulder.

"I'm sure everything is going to be fine Ron. It was a basic potion and I'm sure that the Doctors will be able to help her."

"I hope so dad."

Ron's hands clenched in worry.

"C'mon kiddo, this is nothing like when Natasha came back from Guatemala is it?" Clint joked. A wet laugh came out getting a look from Tony. Bruce kept pacing back and forth, keeping his ears for calling out for him in regards to Hermione.

"I think the other guy was worse off than her. But you lost that bet with her and had to do the laundry from her mission. I can't remember. What were you too betting on? I can't remember."

"Oh... Um... what was it? I think it was whether Fitz or Simmons was faster."

"Oh yeah. And the floor was waxed and they both tripped. Uncle Fitz crossed first."

* * *

Doctor Cracknel entered the room holding a medical chart for the patient, with a stony expression seeing the unconscious young girl lying on the emergency room cot. His face betrayed nothing as he looked over her certainly altered appearance. Slightly purpled skin and hair practically bleached white.

"Basic potion for sure," he sighed and walked over to the cauldron. He opened the cabinet and began pulling out various viles of ingredients.

"Snake's tongue... Griffin feather... Pheasant eggs... Ashwinder dust..."

He placed them into a bowl and began to grind it into a paste. The paste was deposited into his cauldron and a fire was lit below. He paused a tapped his chin only to be off in a flurry, gathering and preparing other ingredients and working them quickly into the cauldron. The misture was a soft green color when he took a sniff. His nose scrunched and he grabbed a seemingly out of place grinder of sorts and cranked a black powder into it, not altering the color one bit, but seemed to be what Doctor Cracknel needed as he pulled a small portion of the liquid out and onto a sponge.

"Always the color changing potion."

He walked over to the unconscious girl and began to lightly pat the sponge onto her face. A faint sizzling noise filled the room as he applied the potion to the effected areas of her skin, followed by a few drops being squeezed into her hair.

"One potion down. One more to go," he commented as he tilted her head back. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flash light. He turned it on to look into her nazel cavity. The inside showed signs of irritation only confirming what he assumed. Looking over her charts just in case of any medical alergies, he went back to the ingredient cabinet.

This was hardly going to be a pleasant ending to a rather unpleasant day altogether.

 **And cue the glares. Yep, Doctor Cracknel everybody. At least he's not a complete ass? Eh, he is what he is.**

 **Mysticarts:Well, you've made worse characters Sunshine. And he's at least-**

 **Hush up you!**

 **Mysticarts: Why?**

 **No spoilers. I know you.**


	14. Bid the hospital farewell

It felt like an eternity when Bruce had been called back alone. Tony offered to go as he insisted he would be paying for the medical attention, but Bruce insisted on going in alone. Ron looked at Clint with slight relief. She would be fine. It wasn't like they came out to say that she had died. And perhaps it was a stretch of the imagination to think of dying from a beginner level potion but after taking classes with Professor Snape, he knew that even the simple potions could have painful consequences.

So many had to visit Madam Pomfrey in his first year alone under the Slytherin head of house. And despite people complaining, Ron very much doubted it was due to Professor Snape's negligence. That is, if his temper when a potion went wrong was any indication.

Knowing that she would be coming out with Bruce made his heart lift a bit.

But with each second passing, his worry grew. What could possibly be taking so long?

* * *

"How is she?"

"Please just a moment sir, the doctor will be out in just a moment."

Bruce quietly huffed as he began waiting again. Thankfully someone did appear rather quickly. Just, not someone he thought he would recognize.

"You-"

"Are you Miss Granger's gaurdian?" The man questioned as he read over a document on his clipboard.

"Uh-"

"It's a yes or no question."

"Yes I am. I'm Doctor Banner." The Doctor lifted his gaze from the clipboard and gave Bruce a once over, though not meeting his eyes. Bruce recognized the man as the one they had talked to earlier about magic lessons for Hermione during the summer.

"You are a doctor?"

"Not that kind of doctor."

"Mm. So, I've administered two potions for her. She should be fine. While it looks bad and initially feels terrible, the damage, all things considered is rather minor. Speaking of, who was your potion overseer? I will need to send a notice to MAGIC to verify the accident and to understand where things went wrong," then sharply under his breath he muttered, "And because those damn government blokes don't have anything better to do than to give me more paperwork."

"Potion overseer?"

The Doctor's face froze holding irritation and annoyance before looking Bruce in the eye.

"Damn book keeps not warning people... Inside the book there is a notice that for people making potions for the first time they should have a magical overseer. In case something like this happens. From your tone I'm guessing you didn't?"

"Well, no. Hermione has done potions before. Rather successfully," Bruce defended.

"But not of the maya variety correct?" There was the hard stress on the vowels when he spoke.

Bruce didn't have a chance to respond as the Doctor who Bruce for the life of him couldn't remember his name, continued on.

"A common mistake really. So many people look at potions and question how different can it be learning new recipes? Well it's not the same thing. An english chef does not equate to being able to make dim sum."

Bruce didn't waver but could acknowledge the reasoning. It was similar to the understanding various branches in science. The base of many sciences did not mean they were the same either.

"That being said, it could have been worse. I have seen far worse reactions. There are people who have had their eyes changed and are stuck seeing everything in the wrong color. Luckily, none of the potion ended up in her eyes."

"Is there any permenant damage?"

"Not damage. But she does have a streak of blonde streak in her hair. We'll have to see if it will require cosmetic treatment to restore the color or if it will grow back in it's original color naturally. If she's interested of course," the Doctor explained in a tired tone.

"Thank you."

"I'm just doing my job sir."

"Doctor Banner."

"Right, the not a doctor doctor."

"Doctor Cracknel, your patient is awake."

"Fantastic. Follow me Doctor."

Bruce kept up with the man he now was fighting to remember the name Cracknel. In trying to keep his name from escaping his mind, it took no time to reach the room Hermione was now awake and waiting in.

"Bruce!" she called out sounding a bit distressed. He was not quite ready for her emotional outburst nor the tight hug she gave him for her reassurance. He awkwardly returned the affection with one arm around her back and another on her head. Near her face, he saw a dark blonde steak of hair that contrasted her solid brunette hair.

"It's going to be alright Hermione."

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron cried out the moment he saw her and Bruce appear from the back area. He jumped to his feet and approached with his dad and Tony hot on his heels. Hermione gave a small sheepish smile seeing Ron, tucking her hair back behind her ear in an attempt to hide the blonde streak.

"You're okay right? Nothing's broken?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Fantastic," Clint commented, "Who's ready to head on back to the tower for some tacos? I am starving."

Ron's stomach roared indignantly. He could feel his face flush bright red.

"Sounds like the right call. I'll call it in."

"No need. We were working on dinner before we came here."

"Did you remember to turn off the stove dad?"

Clint was silent, trying to recall.

"For the love of- Hey Jarvis?" Tony began seemingly out of nowhere into his phone, "Did Birdbrain leave the stove on or not?"

" _He did sir. I have since turned it off. However, it may prove to be a bit more done than many of you would perfer,"_ Jarvis answered on speaker phone.

"Looks like we're eating out. Thanks Jarvis."

" _Not a problem sir._ "

Tony slid the phone into his pocket and looked at the group.

"So tacos?"

"Tacos."

 **Sunshine glancing over at Mysticarts. Staring intensifies.**

 **Mysticarts: Okay so I know I haven't updated Venture's Adventure for tacos-**

 **Mmhm.**

 **Mysticarts: But I have a certain... _Project_ I am working on. **

**Mm _hm?_**

 **Mysticarts: And you know it.**

 **... I was just wondering if you were craving tacos too.**


	15. Signed yours truly

It had been about two days since Hermione's magical accident but other than the streak in her hair, she was fine. It did keep her from the practical magic shows that Tony had encoraged them to try in his lab. Instead, she and Ron went to use their surprisingly seldom used phones from Tony. Not surprising was the lack of messages from the Weasleys as Ron mentioned they didn't exactly use electrical outlets. What was surprisng was the lack of messages from Harry. So, in order to deal with it, Clint suggested a more archaic approach.

* * *

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I don't know if I need to say dear considering we're friends. What do you think?_

 _Anyway, how are you? Enjoying your summer so far? I haven't been able to reach you on the phone Tony got for you so dad suggested I send a letter. So here goes._

 _It's been pretty wild here. Course, there was the whole seeing my dad which has been awesome. Dad keeps getting into little bets with my Aunt Tasha. He also keeps losing them. Like who could scare Tony more. I've sent a picture of my dad in an Ironman onsie she made him wear after the bet to prove I'm not lying. Tony seemed to think it was hilarious... once he got over the whole trying to scare him bit._

 _I'm learning some new spells from Doctor Strange too. They're not exactly going well, but when I've got it down, we'll never have to run back to the room to grab things (That's probably not true. Maybe not cross the room?) I can pull and push things. It's a little strong but it's not bad. I think I could use it on Malfoy if he's being a jerk._

 _Hermione's alright too. She's writing you a letter too. But I think you should know something. She had a bit of a small accident recently. Nothing bad. But she's got a streak in her hair now. Not very big but still noticeable. We don't know if it's permenant or not yet so don't be too surprised? I don't know._

 _I know you don't celebrate the fourth of July but I really think you'd enjoy being here. We're all going to be on top of Stark tower as we watch the fireworks go off. Have you ever seen fireworks go off before? I don't know if they have any certain days they set them off over in England._

 _I'm looking forward to it though. This is going to be my first year being able to see them like everyone else. Outside in the open and at full volume. Dad's gonna cheat by taking out his hearing aid out for it I know he is. You think I could get him back with Tony's help?_

 _I've been looking at the weather in England. Does it really rain that much during the summer? It's been fairly dry here._

 _How are you coming on your homework? Dad's having me work on a different class a week to get the homework done. Thankfully we don't need to cast anything. Especially for Transfiguration._

 _Apparently, flight from Britain to America isn't easy on old rats._

 _Well, it's all I've got to say for now. Get your phone working Harry so we can chat!_

 _Ron._

* * *

"Snail mail? Really?" Tony snorted seeing Ron prepare the letter. Hermione didn't seem to mind and answered curtly, "Harry hasn't been answering any of out messages from our phones. So we figured we would try it this way."

"Guys have your letters ready?" Clint asked as he entered the room dressed in a grey hoodie, a nondiscript ball cap and a pair of large tacky sunglasses.

"Dad, why are you dressed like that?" Ron asked warily. Clint placed a ball cap over Ron's own fiery red hair and offered him a pair of sunglasses as well.

"Paparazzi."

"What?"

"Congrats kid you're famous," Tony dryly explained. "And not even the regular kind. You have your own "groupies"."

"Shove it tin head. Ron, you were kind of talked about with the court case and dealing with your guardianship. And while I doubt that anyone will be too aggressive about meeting you, I'd rather not have your face in some magazine making rumors and overall stalking you."

"Most magic people avoid muggles though," Hermione stated, "they didn't seem interested in anything non magical."

"Except indoor plumbing," Ron added.

"Everybody loves indoor plumbing," Clint responded immediately, "Outhouses and holes in the floor suck."

Hermione looked both curious and disgusted. Tony just looked disgusted and disinterested.

"But stalkers are stalkers. And America is not quite Britian Ron," Clint chuckled.

"Trust me dad. I _know_. Can't we talk about something else?"

"Sure. What do you two want on the fourth? I'm thinking hotdogs and burgers," Clint suggested.

"Dad, chicken thighs."

"I thought the only chicken you ate was in dinosaur form?"

Ron felt his face flush slightly as his lips peeled back into a grin at the jab.

"I was six. And you said it was the only way to eat chicken."

"The only acceptable way," he responded sagely, "for a tiny kid."

Ron groaned when Hermione snorted at the exchange. Tony just rolled his eyes and left for his lab.

* * *

Harry sat within his room as the sun set, Hedwig upset and in her cage.

"I know girl. You need to keep quiet a bit longer. Just so Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are asleep. I don't want them to lock you up for the rest of summer," Harry comforted Hedwig with a light stroke of her feathers. Hedwig gave a quiet hoot but for the moment settled down. Harry looked back at his schoolwork he had smuggled from his once sleeping quarters below the stairs. Along with his wand and charms book, he brought up the gift from someone he believed was either Ron or Hermione's uncle.

A rather new and very sleek cell phone. Unused and not active. As pleasant as the device was, he couldn't exactly use it. His aunt and uncle would never pay for it to work anyway. It was best to keep it in the best condition for when he could actually use it. Even if it wasn't until after he graduated from Hogwarts.

 **Well, we have another chapter here don't we? Yep. Another one. _Another._**

 **I should probably calm down a bit. Hope you are all enjoying the new year so far. I think I am!**


	16. Independence Day

Independence Day, United States of America was considered a wild holiday by the most patriactic of people. With the survival of the attack of New York just the summer prior, the celebrations were amped to eleven. Party stores and butchers were selling far more product than normal to accomidate the need for celebration. Liquor and beer bought in droves, all things Ron and Hermione thankfully got to avoid thanks to Tony's financial connections. The celebration for the Avengers was taking place atop Tony's tower in an all day celebration. A grill monitored by Jarvis and whichever person happened to be near it at the time kept the food coming and plentiful.

Foil wrapped potatoes, squash, zucchini, carrots, shishkabobs, flame coated hot dogs, seared and juicy burgers, and thick chicken thighs slathered in barbeque sauce. bowls of fresh blueberries, blackberries, cantaloupe, honeydew and strawberries made for easy snacks as well as ammo in the short lived food fights. Primarily Clint flicking blueberries at Tony with Tony retaliating against the archer. Thankfully, it seemed as the seldom seen Pepper Potts was actually available and was actively keeping things moderately civil between the Avengers.

"Is it always like this?" Hermione asked Ron refering to the onslaught of food and the overall atmosphere of patriotism and comradiary.

"You know Mione, I can't really say. I lived in an airship for most of my life. Celebrating the fourth up there was more of a, come as you can kind of deal. There were a few large cakes with sparklers and the food that day was pretty much all grilled. The fireworks were fun though. On a clear night, they'd fire off just below. Dad would take me with Uncle Nicky, Uncle Phil, Auntuncle FitzSimmons, sometimes Aunt Tasha, and we'd look out the window and watch the fireworks explode under our feet."

Ron's eyes sparkled with the memories of the bright colors exploding under his feet like flowers in spring. It was bright and beautiful and something he loved every year.

"But I think this is how it is for a lot of people."

Hermione hummed in thought and acknowledgement.

"It's nice. I wish Harry and Neville could be here for it."

"Maybe next year. We could have an epic party. Well, I'm gonna get something to eat. You hungry Mione?"

"I guess some fruit wouldn't hurt."

"That's the spirit Mione." Ron sprinted off to the buffet style table and grabbed various fruits while Hermione casually looked around at the festivities both on the roof and occasionally peeking below not quite knowing what was going on, but still seeing the overwhelming red white and blue.

"Enjoying yourself Hermione?"

"Oh, yes Bruce I am," she stumbled awkwardly. It was odd not have a title to call the man as he was not her uncle. Nor was he unrelated from her, and yet was her caretaker. And unlike the wild eccentricities of Tony Stark, it felt inherently wrong to simply call him Bruce. Yet, it was the most acceptable so she kept calling him as such.

"That's good to hear. I know that this might be a little well, jarring-"

"Very mature Tony," a louder voice cut him off. The two looked over to see a slightly irritated Steve Rogers looking over something either just put out, or something both had missed.

"What? You know anything more sickeningly patriotic?" Tony questioned as he gestured at a cardboard standee of a saluting Captain America with a bald eagle flying behind him. An american flag billowing behind with the aid of a fan to keep it one controlled direction.

Clint let out a rancous laugh at the exchange.

"Hey Steve, stand next to the Captain. I want a picture of the birthday boy with the Captain."

"Wait, today's his birthday?" Ron asked feeling slightly bewildered. "Captain America was born on America's independence day?"

"The world works in mysterious ways," Natasha deadpanned. Steve rolled his eyes at the commentary.

"Hey dad, can you take a picture of me next to the Captain?"

"Sure can. Go strike a pose Ron."

"Good grief," Steve sighed. Ron dashed over to the cutout, dropping off Hermione's fruit and striking a pose. He puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips, a cocky grin on his face as his head tilted upward. Clint used his phone to snap a few pictures while Natasha took some of her own with her camera. Steve chuckled at the antics of the picture taking.

The mood remained easy and light hearted even as Steve had to open presents of mainly gag gifts on the patriotic holiday. The day evolved into a soothing night, with chairs and blankets being pulled out onto the roof. Once the last bit of light left the sky, small pops could be heard from eager individuals. Clint gave both Ron and Hermione sparklers to use on the roof.

"Tony, I have a confrence in Tokyo I have to be at later this month. I need you to go to Britian to finalize a deal while I'm gone."

"What? Why? Wasn't that part of the reason I made you CEO?"

"Yes it was. But I can't be in two places at the same time and you're still not welcome in Japan."

"It's not like I legally can't go back-"

"Do you want the government watching your every move? Because I don't want to have to deal with the aftermath when it goes wrong."

"And you want me in Britain because?"

"We have a deal offer and Natasha happens to be in Europe in case anything goes wrong."

"I feel insulted," Tony said standing up in an overexagerated manner. Pepper rolled her eyes but knew he would at least follow through under some guise of self interest. It was as Tony was walking that the first firework went off.

An eruption of color dazzled those who saw it, and colored the back of one. The loud explosion echoed in Tony's ears and flashes of hot desert sand and shrapnel entering his chest filled his mind. His chest began to tighten and each breath felt more labored than the last. Shattering glass of buildings and the wind from the high altitude. An endless horde in the dark abyss of space. He slipped out fairly unnoticed back into the quiet of the tower. The lights drowning out the darkness. The tightness slowly receding leaving only an aching pain.

He could only hear his gasps as the others were seperated by a set of doors keeping the loudness, the dangers and the darkness of the world out.

 **Oh, so fireworks are a bit of a no go. Good to know.**

 **And on my part, shameless food stuffs. Family tradition for many years was ro hold a family Barbeque. It was a potluck style with a variety of meat, lots of desserts, coolers filled with Stewart's pops, Jones sodas, and some basic Mountain Dew and Coke, and various sides.**

 **Mysticarts: I remember cleaning the house freaking spotless for the get together.**

 **Sh... No bringing up that chaos.**


	17. Respect the man

Ron and Hermione had listened to Tony complain about having to do something for work.

"Bring back something British," Ron joked.

Clint raised a brow at his boy. "We're going back to Britian in a few week. Why are you asking for something British?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "He's rich."

"I have taught you well," Clint responded sagely.

"Circus clowns," Tony snarked back, "Always ripping you off."

"See you when you get back Tony," Bruce said civilly as Hermione waved him off.

The flight had been simple enough. His private jet always did make it comfortable.

The British though, Tony had just about had it with them. When he had landed and went to speak with the head of Grunnings, he had been turned to speak with some sales representative who wasn't even there. Didn't they know who he was? He was Tony Stark! Iron Man! CEO- _Former_ CEO of Stark Incorporated. He shouldn't have to set up a freaking meeting with this Doody man or whoever he was.

Well he wasn't going to waste time here. He'd find Mr. Doody and tell him what he thought of their company. Who needed their drills anyway. He could build better drills with his eyes closed than they could ever sell.

But he would do it in his usual fashion.

So he had Jarvis find this guy's address and decided to pop on in. House number who cares, house number not that one, house number-

" _We're here sir._ "

"Thanks Jarvis," Tony said stepping out of the car andbegan walking up the cookie cutter walkway to the door. He ignored the cars in the driveway and gave hard knock to the door. His face held a devil may care. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the door to open. It was quiet until he heard the door open.

A thin faced gaunt woman with dark hair in a summer cocktail dress. It kind of reminded him of Doctor Strange if he decided to shave and dress in drag. He raised a brow and her nostrils flared as if he were a filthy rat.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a sickeningly condenseding voice.

"I doubt it. I'm just here to speak with whoever here works for Grunnings."

He pushed past the twiggy woman and he could practically feel her rage pour off her in waves.

"How- Wha-"

He could hear a young person's gasp.

"Mum! Dad! That's Tony Stark!" a large balloon of a possible child called out from the table. His eyes were wide in wonderment. He stood from the table and waddled over. Tony didn't think the kid could even really move. "It's an honor."

"I'm sure. I'm just here to talk to whoever works at Grunnings."

"Well I'm sure this can surely wait-"

"Oh my the Iron Man himself," the woman at the table acknowledged. "I didn't know you were doing business with him!"

There was a glint in the large mustached walrus's eyes.

"Why yes of course! I am so sorry it completely slipped my mind. Mr. Mason I hope you don't mind but Mr. Stark is not here in the country long."

"Not at all. It's an honor and a privledge to meet such a hero," the far skinnier man commented with a bright smile. Tony wasn't entirely sure just what was going on now as he was led to the table by the piggy boy and anchair brought up and settled between the boy and the skinny man.

He could only think that it was situations like this Pepper must be reffering to when saying he needed better impulse control.

Dinner was awkward and he had trouble gaining control of the conversation and he was never going to tell anyone the details of this day. Including learning that they apparently owned a loud and noisy ass of a cat and that they liked to hide it upstairs. He thought houses with pets had more unsightly animal hairs.

He was somehow led into their living space listening to dumb jokes and being asked to regale tales of being Iron Man.

He blamed their British accents. It reminded him too much of the original Jarvis.

During one of the boring jokes something interesting caught his eye. Over from the counter was some large chocolaty dessert covered in cream and something sugared just started floating.

He watched in intrigue as it began floating over slowly in the air.

He glanced over at the porker kid but didn't see anybindication of it being his doing. He had seen Ron cast and Hermione on rare occasion, but this kid clearly wasn't doing it.

He looked back at the dessert and noticed half hidden was a boy in rather worn clothing with messy and shaggy black hair. He took slow and controlled steps behind the dessert with his hands held rather steady as though moving with the dessert.

No one seemed to have noticed him yet. Did he live here? If so wouldn't he have been there for dinner? Then again what did he know about family dynamics. His dad was hardly a good example. But if he went off Clint and Bruce with Hermione and Neville then... it was weird. Was the kid grounded or something- oh.

Tony felt a smirk come to his face. Revenge for being grounded. This should be entertaining.

It was with this though he looked away innocently, watching as now, the skinny Strange in drag noticed the treat and tried to hide her horrified expression.

"Petunia, why don't you tell them the joke about the American plumber-"

Splat went the dessert. All over the head of Mrs. Mason.

 **N** **ew World Crafting: A First hand account of wand crafting. It's a new story from Mysticarts. Should take a look at it if you want an idea of some of the background I don't cover.**

 **Mysticarts: And no this wasn't my secret project.**

 **I never said it was sister dearest.**


	18. Ending dinner on a sweet note

Tony let out a rancous laugh seeing the dessert spill on Mrs. Mason.

"Well, I've seen all sorts of tricks to make a group memorable. But this takes the cake." Tony glanced back at the horrified dark haired boy who looked like he was ready to bolt. Well if the purple faced Walrus was any indication it probably wasn't a bad idea for the kid.

"Well! I have never been so insulted in all my life!" Mrs. Mason declared enraged at the family. "We're leaving!"

"Coming dear," Mr. Mason said quickly getting to his feet. Tony just sat comfortably holding a smirk on his face. From being one of the worst business experiences he had experienced personally, to being one of the most enjoyable experiences he had in a while. All courtesy of the dark haired boy who everyone was glaring at.

The Walrus man began trying to soothe it over with them.

"I'm terribly sorry. That's just our nephew. He's very disturbed and meeting strangers upsets him, so we keep him upstairs-"

"You often lock children upstairs?" Tony asked in a knowing voice. He didn't like the sound of that.

"No! We just do what we can for his mental health-"

"He seems fine to me. Hey kid you speak?"

"He's-"

"I wasn't asking you Verizon."

"Veri- Sir my name is _Vernon_."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey kid what's your name?"

"Harry sir."

"You mentally disturbed Harry?"

"I erm... I don't believe so sir."

"Can you eat a dinner with strangers without throwing a fit?"

"I believe so," he responded with a bit more snark. Tony's smirk grew slightly.

"Any reason you weren't with us for dinner tonight then?" he asked. He heard the door open, most likely the visiting couple about to leave but then pausing at the door to see what would happen. It wasn't often many mortals feasted their eyes on his glorious self effecting their world on a more personal level.

The kid looked at the two who obviously were his guardians if he actually lived here and seemed to judge their reactions. Tony could practically feel their seething rage and from the young beach ball, confusion. He looked Tony Stark in the eye and said, "I was in my room, being so quiet it was like I didn't exist." His voice was quiet but strong, full of conviction.

A shriek intterrupted the moment however as an owl of all things flew in through the open door past the Masons. Mrs. Mason's face paled at an alarming rate turning more ashen as she screamed, hightailing it out of the house covered in cream as her husband ran after her.

Tony was fully amused as the family seemed wary of the owl. Being the ever cocky man that he was, he took the letter.

"Don't!" the woman cried out as Tony casusally opened the letter.

"Dear Mister Potter, yadda yadda," he skimmed through the letter and confirmed what he already suspected.

"Hocus pocus kid? Something from somewhere called the ministry of magic?"

The boy-Potter-kid walked forward and took the letter from Tony. The woman was pale as death where the husband seemed to be rapidly shifting to a perilous puce color.

"That-that's perposterous Mr. Stark. There's no such thing as magic-"

"Oh I know. But what it actually is science has yet to determine. Afterall, I have two kids in my tower who can pull similar tricks."

"You're not scared?" the beach ball kid blurted out. His eyes were wide with wonder as if it a kid like shorty here could actually be terrifying.

"No. Why should I?"

It was a simple phrase, but it held a heavy air as the owl flew away.

"You still in school kid?"

"I am."

"Great. I can't get to any of your magic places "unescorted" and I promised I'd bring back some souvenirs so you coming?"

"You are not taking tha- _HIM_ out of this house."

"Too late tonight? I _could_ come back tommorow. We didn't get to talk about why I was even here. Not the best way to do business is it?"

A forced smile came to Vernon's face.

"Of course," he forced out, "Harry would be happy to be your guide tomorrow. About-?"

"I'll show up when I'm ready."

And with his usual devil may care attitude, he sauntered out the door feeling back in control of his business, his life and the people around him.

* * *

"You know, if we had known about your school list sooner, we would have just flown in with Tony," Clint muttered slipping a ball cap on Ron's head after getting the last scan through from the airport and the MAGIC agents responsible for making sure they didn't disappear. Hermione had the decency to blush as she was the real motivation for returning to Britain when they were.

"Well, how often will we have the chance to meet the writer of a successful campaign to better the world?" Hermione defended.

"I don't know, when is Tony starting his memoir?" Bruce joked. Clint looked mock horrified.

"Don't even joke about that. Then he will truly be the empitomy of insufferable."

"I don't know dad. It could be fun. You know he'll need to have people review it."

"I know my review. Best kindling I ever bought. Three out of ten, would burn again."

Ron laughed as Hermione instinctively smacked his dad's arm, a rather tame reaction from her when someone mentioned destroying books. She then looked scandalized as she realized she hit an adult. Clint just laughed.

"Bruce! I think she got your temper!"

 **I did something wild. I really did. It feels fun. At least for me it does. The energy, the power. The ever growing ego of Tony Freaking Anthony Stark! And of course, soon enough we're going to be meeting another famous ego.**

 **Sounds fun right?**


	19. Alleyway

Ron yawned just as the plane landed in Britain, waking up from his long flight nap.

"Plenty awake Ron?" Clint asked. Ron looked up at his dad and nodded his head. He rolled his head off of his dad's shoulder. With a stretch of his arms he could feel his limbs feel restless.

"We're landing?"

"Yep. Just in time for some fish and chips eh chap?"

"Sure dad."

"I can't wait to get to Flourish and Botts," Hermione spoke in a loud whisper so Clint and Ron could hear here along with Bruce, "I've heard Gilderoy Lockhart has been all of Europe facing off against all sorts of dark creatures and witches and wizards all over. He's somewhat of a legendary person in Britain."

"Celebrity. Got it," Clint commented rolling his eyes, "Not that meeting the Avengers was grand enough."

"Dad, your ego is getting to Stark proportions."

"Heaven forbid," he declared, "One major ego is enough. Could you imagine another that we couldn't legally beat to the ground?"

* * *

It was bright and far too early for the ever wonderfully popular and fabulous Gilderoy Lockhart. Alas, his adoring public required his perfect self out in the store on the bright for all of his adoring fans. How else would all those people be able to walk away with freshly autographed copies signed with his signature peacock quill?

But perfection was not as simple as he sauntered around as. Even he required a few sprits here and there along with a lovely quick wash to exfoliate his skin and brighten his wonderfully golden locks. Ah he was ever thankful his experiment using the Occamy egg yolks as a primary ingredient for his shampoo. With all the money he had from his book sales as well as his more fanatic fans so willing to retrieve the eggs, he was never in short supply of good hair days.

Yes, all in all he just knew today was going to be a simply marvelous day.

* * *

Tony hated waking early, so he hardly slept. Being a few time zones over made no difference. He was up and ready to face the day at a semi reasonable time. Not that he would want to be dragged out at seven in the morning but he was the one who was inconvenienced by their damn company. He was going to see just where it would all end.

He gave the door a knock at seven oh one. He didn't hide a smile as he heard a scramble inside. He heard mumbles and grumbles and something made a screech before the door opened.

Dressed in a blue cocktail dress was the stick like woman. Tony wasn't sure if this horse faced Doctor Strange looking woman owned any other type of dress.

"M-Mister Stark well why, you're early."

"Can't be early if no time's scheduled. No point in them anyway. Kid ready to go?"

"Yes. Harry dear?" she called out in an obviously fake and sickeningly sweet voice. It was almost comical had it not been happening right in front of him, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry commented as he stepped past her, making sure not to touch her. Tony didn't blame him. If he had to live with someone like her he'd probably be less civil honestly. Avoiding touching was a far cry considering what he was picking up on. He may not know much about families, but he could recognize parental distaste. His father had given him such looks when he was being a particular problem because dear old dad had pushed him aside in favor of business or searching for Captain America.

Yes, Tony could say he really didn't like this family.

"Morning Mr. Stark."

"Tony. Mr. Stark was my father. Now let's go."

The dark haired boy followed behind To but matched his pace.

"So we drive there or-?"

"I don't know by car. Last time I was taken there, I started out on an island in the middle of the night. But I think I know where we need to go."

"Fun."

Tony wasn't great with kids. But thankfully the kid wasn't the nasty sticky stereotype. Ron and Hermione didn't count as they were a micro agent and a bookworm. But it was nice to have someone else against the stereotype.

He slid into the car and gestured to the kid to get into the front seat. Perhaps it was his slight paranoia, but hedidn't want some stranger sitting behind him in the car when he couldn't easily defend himself. Note to self, work on making a suit that could come out of the driver's seat while driving. Seperate note, make one for Happy too.

And while he was at it one for Pepper too.

"Turn left here."

Tony did as the kid advised and let himself be led to the entrance of British's magical and technologically impaired other half.

It was a twenty minute drive. Mostly quiet. Tony didn't have many questions considering he lived with magical preteens and both were rather forthcoming with information. When they did stop, Tony not only had to do a double take, he had to hold onto Harry just to see the entrance. It was surreal, like space unfolding a secret space hidden between the bricks no one else could see. How wasn't it in the slightest noticed? Doctor Strange's place was one thing, hiding under an elaborate illusion. But what he was seeing here was people completely unaware they were passing the establishment, Their eyes slightly glazing as they pass it to hide the actual distance they were walking.

"This is the place?" Tony asked aloud.

"It is. Well, the entrance is in the back."

"Classy."

The two entered the pub, the kid keeping his head down for whatever reason as they ventured forth. Tony glanced over the bottles ready to be served to the public, noting one bottle simply called fire whiskey. He'd have to try some later.

Undetected for his famous status, they left out the back door to see a brick wall.

"Let me guess, an illusion?"

The kid grinned. "Not quite."

It was then the kid pulled out a stick- _wand_ and looked up at the bricks. He then started tapping a few of the bricks, grumbled, then tapped a slightly different set of bricks. The bricks shook, then began to peel back revealing a hidden market of sorts. To y wouldn't openly admit it, but he was amused. It was a rather neat trick and once he figured out the potion nonsense, this would be a fun follow up project.

The two stepped forward and Tony felt like the only decently dressed man there. Everyone was in long robes, as he remembered from the short stint when he had appeared in the area last year with the custody debacle.

"I hope you don't mind sir, but I'm going to need to make a stop at Gringotts."

"Gringotts?"

"Wizarding bank."

"Never understood that. American money is just American money. Such an easy thing."

The kid shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess they don't like working with pounds. It won't take long. It's just over there," Harry gestured to a large building. Tony raised a brow at the over the top appearance.

"Fine. I could use some of your magic money anyway."

Tony followed after the kid, keeping track of the transfer rate of money to understand more of the value of the everyday person. Especially since they seemed fond of using copper, silver and gold.

What was to stop people from just selling these to jewelers for a quick profit? From the conversions here, it would be marginal on a small scale, but with profit able to get more of the coins, for a while at least, there would be an increased profit. Was it the seclusion of the society?

Either way, he wouldn't quite know until he had to pay for something.

Or just forget the whole money tracking because he was rich.

* * *

"Come along everyone. It's going to be busy and we don't want to get seperated."

"Aw mum, can't we at least wait until Ron gets here?" Fred asked.

"We'll have to shop _again_ when he gets here," George added. Ginny stood next to their mother eagerly awaiting their trip to Diagon Alley.

"Now boys, you've seen your school list. If we wait then there may not be all the books you'll need for class."

"We're in the same class mum. It's not like we haven't shared text books for class before."

"What's the real reason we're going today?" Percy sensibly asked. His mother wasn't one to waste time making two trips to shop. And he knew that his mother was looking forward to actually doing school shopping with Ron for the first time.

Last year had been a whirlwind of finding him and being whipped off to Hogwarts to have any of those memorable moments with Ron.

"Well, your defense against the dark arts teacher seem to favor literature from Gilderoy Lockhart," Molly began with a slight blush, "And wouldn't you know, he is supposed to be there to autograph his books today."

Fred and George gave each other knowing looks. Percy gave his traditional silent sigh as he fluttered his eyes closed trying to contain his known annoyance. Ginny just seemed excited to meet the famous author.

 **Gilderoy. The scarily flamboyant Ravenclaw.**

 **Someone... stop this trainwreck!**

 **Oh wait, no. This is gonna be fun.**


	20. Colliding Egos

Diagon Alley was bustling with a miriad of individuals readying for the upcoming school year or the end of the British summer. Many of which were readying themselves for the upcoming school year, buying books and quills, bottles of ink and per food to care for their animals away from home.

Ron stayed close to his dad, avoiding showing his vibrant hair under a ballcap to hide from any possibilities of Tony's dreaded nightmare, paparazzi. Clint also wore one as his mug was placed in the paper a year ago, and they didn't need to be swarmed because they were recognized.

Hermione and Bruce had no such issues however. They were relatively unknown to the populace and free to let their hair hang loose and openly look at and explore everything from potion ingredients to the animals in the pet shop.

Ron felt a small twinge in his own chest thinking of his own pet Scabbers. It wasn't his for very long, but it had been his very own pet. Something that hadn't been allowed when he had been on the Helicarrier for obvious reasons. One of the pluses from actually finding his biological family he guessed.

Not that they were buying anything at the moment, they needed to first head to the wizarding bank Gringotts for actual usable currency in the crowded shopping area. Clint thankfully kept the group together, passing various individuals of mainly robes but a few wearing suits? No there was someone wearing a full blown suit.

Whatever. As long as the person and his kid didn't cause them trouble, then they'd be fine. It was that fleeting thought that had them well on their way to Gringotts, none the wiser.

Tony and Harry were also caught up in the wild chaos of the Magical Britian scene. While Harry had no problem moving through the slightly dirty and dusty alley to avoid bumping into people, Tony took great consideration and while keeping up with Harry, he was more likely to part people and walk through in his usual self indulgent fashion.

People didn't say much to him but there were a few heated glares he pointedly ignored.

"Oi! That who we think it is?" a certain voice caught his attention. Both annoyed and pleased someone in the hidden away, technologically impaired society that someone recognized the Tony Sta-

"Harry Potter!"

There was a small pause in his stride, miniscule at best when a gaggle of red heads surrounded his escort.

They all looked about the same, with two looking uncomfortably identical for not being manufactured. Twins no doubt. Thinking on it a bit, he mused that this must've been Ron's biological family he didn't bother to learn the names of. Just knew they were red haired dominant and a lot of them. Check and check.

"Hullo," Tony's guide now addressed as Harry responded. Did he know them or something? Must have. He had met the family. Insanely few that young were famous without their families being in the spotlight as well or coming from well off or already famous families. The ones he met at the dinner the day before, did not appear to be even close to the type.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Enjoying a fancy bout of school shopping Harry?"

"A bit. If Mr. Stark here doesn't mind."

Tony raised a brow as the group turned to look at him in all his glory.

The adult male held out his hand to Tony. Tony gave it a look and then looked back at the man.

"And you are?"

"Arthur Weasley," he said pulling his hand back realizing the hand shake wasn't going to happen. His eyes did trail over Tony with a curious expression.

"I say, is this the current muggle fashion. It's rather more complex than the previous sets."

"You mean my suit?"

He glanced down at his own rather nice outfit of black armatti shoes, black slacks, a button up shirt with a lilac vest, from Pepper, and a dark jacket.

"For the best dressed," Tony replied in his usual fashion.

"Fascinating," Arthur stated getting a bit closer. Tony took a step back.

"I know I'm gorgeous but keep your space please," Tony deadpanned.

"Ah. Sorry."

He thankfully took a step back.

"Might I ask you a few questions?"

Tony gestured to Arthur for him to proceed as he and Harry were pulled into the whirlwind of shopping with the Weasleys who did not recognize him, Tony Stark. Store to store gathering small bits here and there. He especially found himself enjoying watching the twins look over various pranking items at a place called Zonkos. Arthur was quite a stroke to his ego if not a tad annoying as he asked various questions with rampant attention.

"Arthur. It's time."

"Ah, right. We're going to head over to Flourish and Botts to meet a rather popular author."

"Sounds decent enough. You coming too Harry?"

"Sure. I need some books."

"Fantastic."

Sauntering over to the rather overfilled bookstore, and forced their way inside the tiny bookstore. The store was... well rustic would have probably been the best way to describe the wood finished book store with leather bound books. Everyone seemed to shop at the same clothing store as near identical black robes could easily be seen. He did note one exception from one man with straight and long pale blond hair. Wizards were weird.

"Look how many people are hear!" a familiar female voice proclaimed.

"Yikes. His books better be worth it." a familiar voice of an asshole archer responded.

"I'm sure they will be Clint."

Tony smirked. With a graceful pivot, he turned to the door surpising Arthur Weasley. Arthur looked towards the direction Tony was looking but in the rather packed bookstore it was near impossible. Tony watched as Clint "Hawkass" Barton just happened to enter the store he just so happened to be in along with little Ron and Brucie, his science buddy and the frizzy haired little Hermione. Somewhere in the back of his head, he noted to have Natasha or Pepper talk to her about her hair. No hair could be impossibly manageable.

He opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off by some older woman with a chin wart.

"Oh Merlin he's here!"

"Mummy," her small child whined, clearly not wanting to be there.

"Not too much longer dear."

"Good day to all you _lovely_ witches," a voice dripping with a honey sweet smoothness permeated through the air. Tony lazily turned his head towards the voice of whoever the witches were all... _Bothered_ for. He was mildly disappointed that this was the best the wizarding community had for a handsome and famous icon. Curly dirty blond hair that hardly looked like it was fit for a full grown man. Especially considering his more square and slightly angular face. Fine lines hidden by tacky make up no one else seemed notice. And his outfit...

That man needed professional help and a personal tailor. Tony was a proprietor of wearing suits and showcasing his own glory, but never making the suits all purple-lavender as Pepper would say- and have an attached open cape with arm holes. It made him look like some miscolored pig had he not had already had the displeasure of meeting that particular family the night before.

"A true pleasure to be here before you all. I'm sure you're all here for signed copies of my own autobiography, Magical Me," he said with a cheesy smile as he picked up a book with the picture on the front giving the same smile.

Harry made his way to Tony as the witches fawned over the man. There swooning made it even more unbearable. Tony would need a drink or two after this. Maybe it would be good to try that Fire Whiskey stuff?

"Don't worry. There is plenty of _me_ to go around-"

Tony snorted at that. Blue eyes met brown and the smile grew terse for just a moment before relaxing.

"I'm sorry," Gilderoy chuckled, "Did I say something funny?"

Eyes wandered to Tony who merely raised a brow and let a smirk come to his own face. He stepped in front of Harry to get closer to blondie bookseller.

"Well, maybe just to me. But it could be that I'm just not used to a man propositioning himself off for 1-7-15- well you get the picture, countless woman in a day."

The shit eating grin on his face said it all as a few women appeared flustered or offended by his comment but to his credit, Gilderoy Lockhart seemed unphased.

"Why sir? Surely you don't think these women are promiscuous?"

"Hardly. They're not saying that there is plenty of _them_ to go around."

No one knew how Gilderoy would respond and no one ever would as a small photographer pushed and shoved his way into the front.

"Out of the way! Out of the way!"

"Excuse you," Tony snarked, offended by photographer. He didn't like paparazzi on the best of days. But the little magical midget was not the type he cared for at all. The photographer didn't care as he pulled out a camera Tony was sure would be more useful in Roger's time. The light smoke, the bright light, and the gaudy little man ignoring him.

While Gilderoy had given his "award winning" smile to the camera, Tony's vocal complaint, regained his attention. His eyes were on Tony for the briefest of seconds before falling to Tony's side.

"Well I'll be... Harry Potter."

"That's not what it says on the book," Tony immediately responded. He could hear a snort far too familiar from being in his tower and hearing Tony's usual sass.

Gilderoy ignored him and reached out his hand. Tony could feel the movement around him as the kid he had brought with him- _Harry_ was his name, though how the ham knew that, he had no freaking clue- being pushed forward to be in the same lime light as the hack author.

He could feel his irritation grow as his hand quickly grabbed Harry's shoulder and held him in place. Bright green eyes looked up at him in slight confusion and awe. A normal enough response for an abnormal situation. Who wouldn't act in awe and the Marvelous him? Other than of course, the backward chamberpot using shut ins he was surrounded by and people who hated him.

"I don't think Harry wants to be singled out Gordan."

Murmers and gasps could be heard easily throughout the building.

"A bit of an over reaction to a picture," a deeper voice broke in. Slithering through the crowd easily was the man Tony noticed earlier with the long light blond hair.

"Not an over reaction if the kid doesn't want it Rapunzel."

Tony held his stance to the icy and rather emotionless man with platinum blond hair and gave his own "award winning" devil may care smile.

"I'm sure," he paused for a dramatic second, "Mr. Potter can speak for himself."

Smooth and vile were his tone despite the innocent word usage. Like alcohol.

"Now now, let's all be reasonable individuals," Gilderoy interjected, the fans watching with rapt attention, "No need to start anything tumultuous gentlemen. We are all civilized people he commented as the photographer made a run for the door.

"Hey-" Tony barked out at the skeevy man when a muscular arm shot out in front of the man. The man ran into it and his camera flew from his hands, slamming into a wall and breaking into pieces.

"Oi! Wha's yur problem ey?" the man spat out, "Yah dun an' broke me camera!"

Like a well timed machine, people began to turn, giving attention to a "wide eyed" Clint Barton who was frantically moving his hands in a manic and somewhat familiar manner. He could see Bruce rubbing his eyes in irritation and Hermione looked mortified. Ron on the other hand was holding back a smile as he stepped forward.

"Sorry sir. My dad didn't quite hear what was going on up there and no one around us was answering questions."

"Well 'e should 'ave moved closer den!" he spat angrily.

Ron did a few gestures to Clint, to which Clint responded with some very fast gestures.

"It wouldn't have done my dad any good. He's deaf. I translate."

"See! Perfectly reasonable," Tony called out, sauntering over to the four with Harry in tow, deliberately ignoring the inflated egos behind him.

"You should go digital. Wouldn't have this problem," he added with smug satisfaction. "Legolas, Brucie," he greeted first when Ron and Hermione surprised him.

"Harry!"

"How are you?"

"We haven't heard from you all summer! Have you been busy?"

Gilderoy held a terse grin, then attempted to draw the attention back on what everyone had come there to see. The Marvelous him. With elegance and charm, many of the witches focused back at him, begining to clamor for his attention. He hid his aggrivation well as a large group of red headed individuals who only vaguely looked familiar began to move to the back where the hauty man was. No matter, they wouldn't be forgetting him after the day, even if it did take a small dip into his profits.

"I've been fine," Harry said with a smile, "It's great to see you two."

Ron opened his mouth to speak when a gaggle of red heads seemed to appear behind Tony. Ron swallowed as he saw Molly and Arthur- his biological mother and father- Percy with a rather perturbed expression next to Ginny who seemed shocked and a bit tired, and Fred and George who wasted no time throwing an arm each around his shoulders.

"Hey there Ronnikins!"

"Wasn't expecting you here today-"

"But it's simply wonderful-"

"Nay- _Marvelous_ it is to see you here today."

"Erm... Thanks?"

"It really is a pleasant surprise," Arthur said to Ron. he then looked towards Clint before looking back at Ron sheepishly. "He, Uhhh... can't hear me can he?"

"It'll be fine as long as he can look at your lips while you're talking. He's gotten to be very good at reading lips."

Arthur grinned and Ron had to hold back a groan.

"It. Is. A. Pleasant. Surprise. To. See. You. Both. Here." He had sloweddown the sentence and emphasized the movement from his mouth in order to try and help his dad.

Clint raised his brow and spoke back, "You don't have to slow it down or over exaggerate. Speaking normally works just fine."

"Oh sorry. I just assumed-"

"It's fine really. It happens."

"Ah yes. Well, may I ask what you're doing here? Not that you aren't allowed here but-"

"Look, Hermione wanted signed copies of their school books. And since the man is here to sign them, we figured why not. That and these are incredibly hard to buy in America."

"They are?"

"Magical imports from Britain are rare," Bruce added.

Ron used the oppertunity of boring conversation to tug on the dad's arm. Clint turned to look at him.

"Mind if Mione and me look around?"

"Just stay in the store. I don't want to try looking around everywhere here deaf."

"Not my fault your batteries died."

"They were _brand new_."

With Clint's permission and the allowance of Arthur and Molly, the children left the adults to speak of boring things like imports.

Ron had attempted to escape his family but no luck. Well, Percy kept distance, finding a book that caught his interest but glancing up every once in a while to make sure no mischief was occurring from the twins who seemed to have stumbled upon a book of joking curses.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Ron nearly groaned hearing the all too antagonistic voice he had enjoyed being away from back in America. Looking up the stairs not too far away was Draco Malfoy himself with his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter," he continued on in what Ron recognized as a showman's behavior speaking to a crowd-according to his dad. "Can't even go into a book shop ithout making the front page."

"Leave him alone. He didn't ask for that!" Ginny defended.

"Oh look Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend._ "

Ginny went scarlet as Ron's eyes narrowed.

"You saying there's something wrong with someone having a girlfriend? Wasn't your mum your dad's girlfriend once? Or does it work differently with erm... people of your lineage?"

Draco's face tinged slightly pink, his eyes held storms at the comment directed at his family. He opened his mouth to speak when someone else interrupted.

"Draco. It's time to go."

"Yes father."

"Ron, Ginny-"

"Arthur." Like poisoned velvet the name slipped out.

"Lucius," Arthur responded in the coldest voice Ron had heard him use.

"Busy time at the Ministry I hear. All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?" His long fingers gingerly pulled out a book from a couldron in Ginny's hand and gave it a once over, noting it's used condition and slightly cracked spine. "Obviously not," He slid the book back in with a ku-thunk.

"It does make one wonder what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Arthur's face flushed darker than Ginny's and Ron could feel his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly," he stated, his pale eyes straying to Hermione then to Ron, "The company you keep, even your family thinks you can sink no lower-"

To many, it was too fast to know what just happened. But to Ron who had grown up watching his dad and Aunt Tasha spar, saw a messy but powerful tackle as Arthur had thrown himself at Lucius Malfoy, knocking the man to the floor.

"Woo! Go dad!" One of the twins yelled.

"Arthur! No stop!" Molly cried out.

Ron pulled Hermione back and grabbed Harry as well as Hermione pulled the shocked Ginny out of the way. Quick as can be, Clint ran over and pulled Arthur off Lucius with Bruce and Tony soon following. Bruce offered his hand to Lucius but it was duly ignored as the long haired wizard stood up indignantly. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and acted as though he did nothing deserving of being tackled to the ground by a middle aged man.

"Come Draco. We're leaving."

Draco hurried on the heels of his father outside as Molly began to reprimand Arthur for fighting in the book store. Ron didn't think she would have stopped within the next decade had Gilderoy Lockhart himself not shown up.

"Why are you all alright?" he asked in a sugary sweet fake concerned voice.

"Oh, um. Yes Mr. Lockhart. We're all fine."

"Please, call me Gilderoy. _Mr._ Lockhart was my father. And for the children, you may all call me Professor."

"Professor?" Harry blurted out the single worded question now floating through everyone's mind.

"Why yes. I came here not only to sign copies of my autobiography Magical Me, but to announcecthat I will be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. And as your professor, since you all seem to need a little more protection, each of these students here," he said gesturing to the Weasley children, Harry, and Hermione, "will recieve a full set, all signed by yours truly."

There was shock and applause by his generosity as Tony stared him down.

"Thanks but I've already covered their school supplies," Tony responded, "So there's no need."

"We don't need cha-"

"I like to think of it as investments. You're all Little Legolas's family right?"

"Little Legolas?"

"So it's a smart investment to have you all have the school supplies you need. Unless you want to be like me and be expelled constantly from blowing up labs-No." He pointed at the twins before they could say they wanted to get expelled that way. He then turned to look back at Gilderoy with a victorious smirk. Gilderoy gave a polite yet constipated one back.

"How generous of you Mister...?"

"It's Tony. But you probably know me as Iron Man. The reaction was mixed as muggle born children and muggle parents looked at him in awe. With eyes split on Tony, Harry Potter, Gilderoy Lockhart and the Large and lucky family recieving all of Gilderoy's work for free, no one moved to stop them as all but Gilderoy left with their large purchase.

All remained unaware of a journalist in the upper balcony with a magicked camera documenting everything for her next scoop.

 **I spent time analyzing Gilderoy's face. And then put it through a Tony filter. Needless to say, mistakes were made.**

 **Mysticarts: Hello I am Mysticarts here with your psa for the chapter: if someone tells you they are deaf and they read lips just speak clearly and normally. They can still understand context, slowing down actually makes it harder to understand the shape of the word. Also yes mistakes were made.**

 **Thanks for the slap of confidence.**

 **Mysticarts: Are you sure that's how you want to phrase it?**

 **Yeah why?**

 **Mysticarts:Okay *smacks Melancholy in the face***

 **Ow! What was that for.**

 **Mysticarts: The slap of confidence. It's supereffective. Come on guys. Give her a slap of confidence. Maybe that will get her to update more.**

 **Jerk.**

 **Mysticarts: Love you too sis!**


	21. Family pet now confirmed gone

It didn't follow protocol, if they could really call it such. So far, he wasn't technically required to be in Britian with his biological family till the next week. As such, their legal undercover MAGIC agent guide, remained vigilant and reluctantly ready to contact the Ministry of Magic should there be an illegal break for it.

But Ron could handle it with his dad. Afterall, the insanity really wasn't the fact that he was in Britain a week sooner than expected, it was the fact that he was seeing his dad inside the wild house with three of his brothers and younger sister, and his biological mother and father. It was more the fact that they were there with Harry Potter, famous boy wizard who lived, Hermione Granger, Doctor Bruce Banner and somehow, Tony Stark. Tony was making it both a far better experience, and a far worse one. He seemed a bit disturbed at the lack of technology in the home, but was intrigued by the odd grandfather clock woth all their faces that tracked their location.

Arthur was also interesting with his constant questions to the billionare inventor and hero.

Ron decided better not to listen as they began having a back and forth over the function and use of cell phones that Tony had gifted them back in Christmas along with the, now shrunken, "giant" bears. While amusing in the novelty sense to Tony, once he realized who the family was, he was hoping to see the giant bears to prove to Pepper that they were in fact a good idea. Ginny had seemed to be watching Harry at a distance, her cheeks slightly pink. Ron hoped it wasn't a crush. He hardly knew a thing about that kind of thing with being raised by agents pretty much as long as he could remember.

Plus, he'd rather not have his biological sister crushing on his friend. Especially when said friend was more famous than he first realized. Tony had casually talked about celebrity crushes to him and Hermione at breakfast from time to time. Mainly to stroke his own ego according to his dad. But they didn't seem so crazy seeing Ginny crushing on Harry.

She remained at a distance though as Hermione was asking many questions as to why he never sent letters or answered their messages or calls. Ron would have been a part of the asking had he not been pulled away by the ever energetic twins.

"Good to see you back on our side of the pond Ronnie."

"How's it been over there?"

"Entertaining?"

"Wild?"

"It"

"It's been fine. Really. Got my homework done-"

"Boo!"

"You're breaking our hearts here Ron. Getting your homework done before the last week of break?"

"That's what you to do?" Ron responded. "Wait until the last minute?"

"No better way to do it."

"And you two wonder why mum gets on you about your grades," Percy butted in surprising Ron but not the twins with his sudden presence.

"Oh come off it Perce."

"We get it done."

"Right." Percy seemed ready to roll his eyes at the twins' responses. His eyes instead went to Ron.

"Is Scabbers in America then Ron. You haven't gotten him out or mentioned him once."

Ron lowered his eyes feeling slight shame for what he could not control. "He didn't do so well on the flight over. He didn't make it a day. Sorry Percy."

The older teen was stiff yet otherwise unreadable.

"He was an old rat. We have had him since you went missing. It's no surprise that he has finally passed on." There was a tightness to his voice, but it was hard to tell just what Percy was thinking or feeling.

"Well, I for one am all right with that old rat dying. We have Ron here after all!" Ron swore it was George who said it.

"I'm pretty sure other than me taking him to America, there is no connection."

"It's not a problem Ron. And don't listen to them. Correlation is not causation."

"Sentiment still stands!" The other twin, Ron was certain it was Fred, replied.

"Brothers before Rats any day."

Both twins threw an arm over Ron's shoulders in an over dramatic fashion that Ron recognized as typical twin behavior from them. He shrugged his arms and elbowed one of in the stomach.

"Hey now!"

"You aren't thinking of running off are yah?"

"Why?" Ron asked holding out the word in slight worry. Percy glanced at the twins.

"Don't break anything this time," he said walking away. Ron had no time to ask as fingers made their way to his sides and laughter pealed out of him.

* * *

Clint heard Ron's laughter from the floor above from the kitchen.

"Sounds like he's having fun," Clint commented. He took a sip of the tea that was poured for him. Molly moved and fussed about the kitchen preparing a large meal. Clint offered to help seeing as it was a way to extend an olive branch as it were, but like a few other people he knew, Molly Weasley was fiercely territorial of her kitchen.

"He does, doesn't he. I don't think I've heard him laugh since he was a baby."

She sounded wistful and a little tired. Ron snorted when he heard him squeal.

"Right under the arms. It makes him squeal everytime."

"He was ticklish as a baby too."

"It was his feet right?"

Molly let out a small chuckle.

"He always liked to kick them in the air. But if anyone grabbed them-"

"He'd laugh like a loon."

It wasn't deep or meaningful. But it was a start.

* * *

Natasha could only call it luck that Clint and Bruce had left the day before. While it was a minor inconvenience for Clint not to assist with this essential mission from hell, she would have rather him be unaware and get the two kids she had grown to know, out of the country. He was going to give her hell for this once he found out though.

And just when he thought he would have an oppertunity to move out of Tony's tower, it all went to _Hydra_ of all things. Seeing the last carrier fall, knowing that she had just leaked SHIELD information all over the internet including her own, it was a mess.

At least she could say there were fewer casualties with their intervention.

Even if it meant the confirmation of the Winter Soldier being alive. Steve was rather fixated on that piece of information. His life had been saved by the same man he had known as a boy, and reprogrammed to kill. The same individual who was now on the loose doing who knew what. So where was James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes?

 **So many ideas and stories swimming in my head right now... Makes me sleepy...**


	22. Floo you too

With the sun nearly set, Ron waved goodbye to Harry as he and Tony were escorted to a fireplace. Tony looked skeptical and to be perfectly honest, so was Harry and all the Americans. Ron had heard few fairy tales when he was little, and had lived parts of his life knowing of magic, and had spent the last school season immersed in magical lessons and culture, but for the life of him he could not figure out how they planned on getting Harry back home using a fireplace.

After of course he had gotten a strange agreement from the Weasleys to hold onto his school supplies. Until they met up at King's Cross. Clint thought it was a little odd but kept quiet.

His eyes darted over to Percy who grabbed some sort of bowl. He saw what looked like ash or soot had been mixed with glitter and placed inside. He could feel his brow scrunch up in confusion. Percy looked to Harry and held out the bowl.

"Have you ever traveled by floo?" Percy asked in his usual well controlled tone.

"Last I checked you don't fly using chimneys," Tony snarked. It did give him an idea of another access point for a suit though... "So what? A broom is going to appear and fly us back to the Duckee family?"

"Um, I think you mean Dursley," Harry said trying to hide his smile.

"Don't argue Harry. Tin can is terrible with names," Clint responded with a tame name so as not to incur the wrath of the people whose home he was in.

Percy hardly seemed bothered and took it like a champion.

"Floo powder is simple to use," he said holding out the powder closer to Harry, "Grab a handful, think of where you want to go, speak the name clearly and throw the powder to the ground while you are in the fireplace."

Harry grabbed a handful with Tony looking at the powder distrustfully.

"I don't like to be handed things," he commented dryly looking at the powder.

"You won't be needing it sir. You're a muggle."

"That some kind of wizard slang? I think I take offense to that."

"It means non-magic folk," Molly explained in a tired yet somehow still slightly motherly tone.

"Just say that then. America calls that no-maj. Muggle sounds like you're trying to insult us."

"Tony stop," Bruce sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was ready to call it a day but Tony of course was only making it longer. Harry, the ever sensible boy in Bruce's eyes, took a handful of the powder, a small amount slipping out of his fingers to the floor but still quite a bit in his hand. Percy seemed a bit perturbed on how to deal with Tony's mannerisms.

"I will not take being insulted Brucie."

"It's not an insult Tony. It's a description."

"But as a non magical person," he said in an exaggerated tone, "I should have a say as to what I want to be identified as. As a human being, that is my right."

Clint rolled his eyes at Tony's theatrics.

"Tony, Harry needs to go home remember?" Clint pointed out, as he gestured to the dark haired boy. He watched as his eyes seemed to lower slightly. Clint remained impassive but made a mental note to look into the Dursley family. It could just be his own background and his paranoia as a spy paired with the fact that somehow, someway, Tony had found a kid who had a family that had a magically inclined kid who the rest didn't seem magically inclined and that they trusted the man child of a billionaire to go running off in a magical environment without them. Sad that the statement was far from the strangest he had thought. Or been through for that matter.

"In a minute Legolas-"

"So how do you floo?" Clint interrupted Tony's tangent.

"Simply say the name of the location you wish to go in the floo network and throw the floo powder on the ground," Percy answered clearly.

"Make sure you say it right-" Fred began.

"-Or you might end up somewhere else!" George ended with glee in his voice.

"So where would we go?" Harry asked.

"Where'd you enter the alley?" Ron asked, "I'm sure there has to be something near there."

"The Leaky Cauldron."

"That will do just fine," Molly broke into the conversation. "Just make sure that you are clear in your pronunciation. And hold Harry's shoulder!"

Harry nodded his head. Tony placed his hand on Harry's shoulder in a casual manner.

"Leaky Couldron!" he said quickly. He threw the powder down and a green fire filled the fireplace. Ron jumped back, bumping into Clint who remained steady but seemed unnerved.

"You let yourselves get lit on fire," Clint commented in false calmness. His hand went to Ron's shoulder to steady him.

"Wendelin the wierd was famous for allowing herself to get caught by witch hunters and let herself be burned," Hermione commented with excitement brimming in her voice. Ron turned to stare at his fast talking and excitable friend. "She cast the flame-freezing spell to make them harmless. People have commented it feels like one it is being tickled."

Ron stared at Hermione with slight surprise. Moreso about the fact rather than she had one ready. Hermione was always passionate about learning.

"You don't say," Bruce added sounding a slight bit tense. Clint instinctively searched his face for any trace of a green hue. Thankfully, there was no worry about a wild Hulk destroying the small-ish home and welcoming a whole new court case on the custody issue with Ron.

* * *

Tony had traveled many different ways. He had also traveled many different ways while incredibly intoxicated. Hell, he had traveled while intoxicated, drunk and doing many things he had been shamed for and would somewhat regret. _None_ of them could prepare him for the green inferno that enveloped both him and the little scarface boy. Harry nearly fell on his face as he went forward.

Tony, someone far more used to being off balance and having to move, firmed up his grip on Harry's shoulder and stumbled as gracefully as he could forward. Neither landed on the floor but Tony did almost run into a patron to his displeasure.

"Well that was pleasant," Tony grumbled. He walked over towards the bar, bringing Harry along with him, slightly obscuring him from people in front of them.

"Bar tender," he called out commanding attention, "A bottle of the fire whiskey."

"A bottle eh? Got a bit of a get together do you?"

"For later. That fireplace travel is murder. You may want to get that replaced. Real hazard there," he said as sarcastically as it was casually. The man at the bar gave an indulgent smile before grabbing a beautiful hand blown rich brown colored bottle with, if Tony had to guess, a deep amber colored liquid inside. Tony didn't wait for a price and put a pile of galleons on the table and quickly made his way out, "The round's on me."

He felt his lips twitch upward as he heard cheers and whistles at the promise of alcohol as he left with Harry in tow. No one would trust what a drunk saw. He should know. He didn't believe half the things he thought he saw or did when he was drunk.

"Get in the car Harry."

Harry did so but hardly seemed enthusiastic. The drive was fairly quiet with only minor sounds of irritation from the slow traffic of London.

In little time they did make it back to the cookie cutter style homes of Privet Drive.

"Thank you Mister Stark. For the time out to get my school supplies."

"Yeah yeah kid. Use it well, go to school, don't do what I would do."

"But, didn't you save the world?"

Tony blinked and looked at Harry.

"I did. So do what I would do. But don't do what I would do. There's a grey area in the middle and that's what you should do."

"Erm. Okay?"

"Glad we had this talk."

There was an awkward silence before Harry opened the door to leave the car.

Tony watched as the door was shut and Harry made his way to the door. Harry walked controlled yet somewhat meekly to the door. He opened it slowly when a hand shot out and he was quickly pulled inside. Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Jarvis. You record everything?"

" _There wasn't much for me to record sir. You were in what appeared to be a technological dead zone."_

"You at least get everything from here?"

" _Everything from Privet Drive has been recorded sir."_

"Good. Find me everything you can on the family here and find that number for Barton's magic lawyer."

" _Of course sir."_

* * *

Clint didn't bother to pray. It wouldn't matter in the moment. Either he would take a step in the right direction or he would make things even more uncomfortable. Thankfully, the twins Fred and George convinced Ginny and Percy into playing a game of Quiditch with Ron and Hermione with Arthur and Bruce as their scorekeepers and referee. So any and all awkwardness would be solely between himself, and Molly Weasley.

Stepping in the quiet bungalo, he entered the kitchen, seeing Molly Weasley working away at what was that night. Perperations precise and her hands a whirl as she navigated the kitchen with magic.

Fragrant and familiar meat and roasted vegetables permeated the air as a welcome and comforting smell. A pleasant and homey feel Clint only had under the deepest of covers. A layering of scents of home and promise of good food was tantalyzing to say the least.

"Hello Molly. Got anything for me to do to help out?"

Molly whipped out her wand and used it to send plates and glasses to the table as she opened the oven door. A beautifully golden turkey was removed, steam curling off it in waves, dressing pouring out from the back cavity.

"Everything smells wonderful," Clint added, not bothered by her silence towards him. It was clear that the kitchen was not just her domain, it was the throne of the kingdom of her house. "Roasted parsnips and sweet potato? Lovely turkey fit for a king, pleasantly stuffed too."

Molly remained quiet as she continued to set up the meal, levitating items for more space for the rather grand appearing food.

"Ron's going to love it."

She paused only for a moment. Most would miss it, but Clint watched for any tell.

"He doesn't talk about it often, even to me. But he does enjoy meals like this. Where people come together and enjoy each other's company and good food. But lots of times, Ron is earing one on one, sometimes a group of three. Not alone, but with everyone busy..." He let it trail off, exposing a time before the Battle of New York. Back when the secrecy was like breathing. But after the battle, he might still be an agent, but he was in the front line fighting. It was harder to send him undercover.

Molly rubbed a hand to her eye. Perhaps premoving stray tears, Clint didn't know. Her back was still turned to him. Her gaze trailed out the window to see Fred and George zipping around Percy on their old brooms. Ginny was being talked to by Arthur, no doubt having tried to pull an aerial stunt, and Hermione was keeping her feet on the ground as Ron hovered near Bruce as he looked over the brooms in fascination and curiosity.

"There is some lettuce, to your left that needs chopped for tonights salad."

The corners of Clint's mouth quirked upward and he mock saluted Molly Weasley.

"Ma'am! Yes ma'am!"

 **Well here is the next chapter. I feel like I need an extreme nap. Lord knows that's what Mysticarts should be doing right now. She's sick. But rather than take a nap, she's curled up in a chair with a blanket reading fanfiction and hissing at me for telling you all.**

 **Mysticarts: 'm not hissing. 'm sipping my soda. It helps my nasuea... but reviews would be better...**

 **Needy girl.**


	23. An average day

It was art truly. A skill and technique so well devised it could have been an art of it's own.

Sadly it was a necessity for the life he lived.

It was kind of funny though. It seemed no matter where he ended up, no matter what he was doing, people were the same. Scurrying about their day, making a mess of things. Parents chasing their children to trying to keep them from disappearing into the crowd, drunks stumbling in disgusting alleys, piles of trash pushed aside hidden by the polite and beautiful of society.

It was all rubbish. The brave and boldest of individuals would take it as a challenge, but the smarter and meeker would use it to hide and survive.

He was nothing if not meek. And unlike so many, he was a survivor. Oh he may not have been the smartest, the most handsome, or charismatic, but none of those traits had led to others he had been with to get ahead.

Granted, he was hardly much better, but he did do it on his own terms so it was something. Now he was even further away from everything to boot. It was times where he sat alone in his makeshift shelter hidden in the alley among the trash he thought about the day that could have prevented the occurrence. He was there. He could have spoken up. But he didn't. And he lived and was far from the only places he could have called home.

But he was alive. And he would pull through it. He just needed to be able to navigate the infernal country's magical system. It was absolutely mad. The muggles were quick paced vermin who appeared to have no idea on how to slow down. There were no shops which were overlooked by the apparent muggles as they entered just about each establishment he had come across. Not to mention he hadn't seen one trace of an owl flying overhead to indicate the mail.

The clothing was also ridiculous. Some appeared to be witches or wizards with their long coats with an older and more sophisticated style only to discover how incredibly _muggle_ they actually were. Such audacity to it all. Was there no way for a wizard from a foreign country to find the magical community without announcing their presence loudly?

That would be the last thing he would want to do.

With an unheard sigh, he scurried off down the alley in search of food and a trace indicating a magical community. The outside muggle world was no place for one such as he, as delicate as he was.

He listened carefully for the pesky felines that infested the alleys much like a plague.

It was always subtle, the quiet footfalls from their well balanced feet. The air shifting in weight and slight smell that if one didn't pay attention, would easily miss. And on the rare occasion, though the biggest tell was often the most dangerous, The low rolling growl and hiss from one cat to another ready to fight for prey. And if there was more than one cat, often times it meant the alley was filled with the creatures.

He had to be quick, and stealthy to avoid them. Moving as silently as he could, he weaved between abandoned news papers and garbage that had been dug out of a nearby dumpster either by some sort of hungry animal or the odd muggle going dumpster diving of all things.

He would never understand muggles and their peculiar ways.

At least it served as well enough cover. And while the muggles were numerous, they were easily in their own little world, allowing him to move mostly undetected once he left the alley he had rested in.

It was a life he had for the moment. But once he found a magical community, he could go from there. He didn't know where he was, or how far he had gone when something caught his attention.

"Look. It's the _witch._ "

He lifted his head and looked around.

Across the surprisingly clear road, he saw older brick buildings that contrasted to the sleeker glass ones he had been hiding near. Out on the sidewalk was a group of children, no older than eight perhaps. Three children were surrounding a smaller girl. Her head was lowered in either fear or shame. Some rather negative but not harshly aggressive emotion.

"Careful or she might cast a _spell_ on you Annabeth," one kid laughed. The girl's head lowered. She tried to walk around them, but in usual childish cruel fashion, she was blocked off. The little girl muttered something which only garnered a laugh from the other children. Off in the distance, he heard a car rumble to life.

" _Please_? That's all the magic you have?"

He watched as the children continued to harass the kid. He turned his head away. It was none of his business. He did hear a scuffle from shoes and heavy foot fall started off in his direction. He looked back to see the teary eyed child. He watched as the car he had heard turn on collided with her. There was a scream and a screech of brakes coming to a halt.

His eyes were entranced as he witnessed the girl bounce on the ground like a ball and land back on her feet, albeit, a bit shaky. Her tears weren't from pain but the driver didn't know as they stepped out of their vehicle in a panic.

He knew then to follow the girl. She had to be a witch. And even if she were a mud blood, he had no doubt that with the display of magic, it wouldn't be more than a few years at least before she was brought to see the magical community for the first time. With that in mind, he was more than ready to run after the girl when she took off. The driver called out for her and the other children were talking to each other quickly, all in disbelief that a girl as small as her was so easily able to run off after being hit by a car.

It didn't take long to find the child's home as she ran quickly inside.

He scurried to the door and inspected it. As a rat, he was a bit too large to squeeze under the door to the building. He pondered what to do when the door opened. He was about to run when the familiar charge of Stupefy overcame his body.

"What? You're not my ex. He was robin," a woman's voice commented.

Dainty and gentle hands reached down and lifted his body from the ground. She didn't shiver in disgust at touching a dirty rat in New York, nor did she shriek.

"I know you're not a basic rat. My ex was an animagus. And I know all about rats."

She carried him inside the building. For better or for worse, he had found a magical home.

* * *

"Those little things are disgusting. And yet, they're so ugly they're almost cute," Clint deadpanned staring at the little human like creatures in the yard.

"Gnomes. Not again," Molly muttered under her breath as she washed the breakfast dishes, "Fred! George! Go de-gnome the lawn."

"Aw but Mum, can't it wait?"

"If you two put it off it will never get done! Hop to it!" Molly remained stern in her decision. The twins groaned but got up.

"C'mon Ronnie. Don't you want to see how to de-gnome a lawn?"

Clint raised a brow hearing the twins pull Ron to his feet.

"I think I'll go and watch," he told Molly who still had her back to him as she washed. They weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a silent agreement to make a better attempt at getting along. For Ron's sake. In Clint's case, despite his heavily fading hearing aid, had made it a point to alert whichever Weasley he was with, where he was going so they didn't assume he was going to make a break for it with Ron, to never see him again and in Clint's case, make him a wanted man in the United States and most of Europe.

Molly said nothing as he walked into the yard to see Fred and George explaining the basics of de-gnoming a lawn.

"So you grab these little guys by their ankles, spin them around, and throw them? That sounds horrible!" Ron gasped, looking at the two in shock and horror.

"It's really not."

"See, we just make them too dizzy to find their wake back to their holes. They get lost, make new homes, and everything works out just fine."

Ron stared at the two in disbelief.

"You two are crazy. This is inhumane," he gestured to the little creatures, "Surely there must be a better way."

"Eh. Maybe. But mum's not going to be happy if we don't de-gnome it. Sides, we _know_ this doesn't hurt them."

"How would you know that?" Clint piped in, surprising the twins.

"We threw one into a tree once, full speed. Little bugger stumbled for a bit, then just sauntered over to it's home and disappeared. Came out not a minute later as if nothing had happened."

"You're kidding," Ron stated, disbelief dripping from his tone. His mouth moved in a way Clint could gather as 'I don't believe it.'

Great, his hearing aids were officially dead. He needed to find a better way to keep working batteries if he was going to make an effort to get along with Arthur and Molly.

"Hey Ron!" Clint called out. Ron focused on Clint. Clint signed that his hearing aids were dead so if he needed him, he couldn't yell for him.

Ron groaned but nodded his head. One of the twins turned to face Ron and said something. Ron caught Ron's mouth stating, 'It's sign language. Not speaking in hands.' He then signed for Clint to walk over. Clint didn't hesitate to approach the three and signed a basic greeting. He watched as Ron translated for the twins. He saw as Ron ran through the motions with his own fingers as one of the twins spoke.

Clint quickly realized what they were asking. Even before Ron finished signing he was already imagining what kind of trouble they would try to get up to with what they were asking.

He tapped the twins on their shoulders to draw attention back to him. He signed as he spoke, "Are you really sure you want to learn _American_ Sign Language?"

He read one of their lips saying 'Why not?' The other looked slightly confused. 'You mean there is more than one finger speak?'

Clint gazed over to Ron.

"Oh yeah there is."

He saw Ron huff. No doubt recalling wanting to learn BSL after learning about his British roots and how difficult it was for him to pick up and understand the basics. Just a few greetings, yes and no, basic questions such as where is the bathroom, and the alphabet. Ron favored the American sign language he picked up at a younger age that he used with Clint and on rare occasions, Natasha. He did not have the same grasp on British Sign Language as he did for American.

The twins looked as though Christmas and their birthday had come on the same day and early. Their grins promised mischief. It was a strange gleefulness that Clint couldn't help but compare to Ron when he was really excited for something, like everyone getting together for his birthday. Only doubled.

"Boys! How's the lawn coming?" Molly called out. It sounded more like a reminder than an inquiry. The twins' grins remained through the actual de-gnoming process. Ron stared in bewilderment at how the gnomes actually didn't seem hurt even as they stumbled about clearly very dizzy. And yet for the most part, it was just an average day in the Weasley family.

 **Life has not been kind to me recently. But the least I can do is give a meager update here. I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter.**

 **My beta sister has also mentioned that American sign language has heavy French influence.**


	24. King's do not cross

Days passed by wtih a certain level of tension but no aggression from any one person to another. Days passed by with Clint being able to speak with the family Ron had been born into. Ron had actually had a small amount of enjoyment having his dad interact with his biological family. Something about them not ignoring one another or out right being mean and venomous. Perhaps it was due to Hermione and Bruce being there daily, coming from a nearby hotel to check up on the red haired gaggle of kids, parents and archer.

Ron wasn't sure if it was their quiet and nonfamilail presence that didn't threaten to take a child of their's away that had them on a slightly more tame behavior.

Day by day counting down until Hogwarts would have their souls for another school year. Afterthe last year dealing with the stone beneath the castle, Ron wasn't sure what to make of the school. He did hope that the egotistical man who they discovered would be teaching their Defense Against the Dark Arts would actually be a decent teacher.

Afterall, Tony was egotistical, but he was undeniably brilliant. His arc reactor alone promised it. Perhaps Mister Gilderoy Lockhart, esteemed magical author would prove himself able to teach kids.

It was a thought that kept him moderately optimistic even as he helped pack the car and was subsequently loaded into the vehicle with Hermione, Clint and Bruce squeezed in much to Bruce's clear discomfort and bafflement. Clint took it in stride as he was squeezed between Bruce and Ron. The car was uncomfortably full but not unbarable as Molly and Arthur took the front seats.

"A miracle you muggles could create something so small fit so many," Molly commented. Bruce arched a brow and muttered to Clint, "Doesn't she realize that this is magic?"

"Look at her. Let her believe this. I think her hubby set it up," Clint replied low enough she couldn't hear. Ron didn't answer as One of the twins had poked him in his side, getting a squeak from Ron. Not a laugh, a squeak. Clint snorted at the reaction.

"What was that?" the other twin asked.

"Ron squeaks."

"He squeaks? Let me try!"

Ron glared at the approaching hand and folded his arm over his stomach. A strange hissing noise escaped from Ron's lips at the wandering fingers. Clint laughed at Ron's distrustful stance and gaze from being poked.

"Don't," Ron grumbled.

The twins shared a gaze, a silent agreement between them as Percy and Ginny slid into the car.

The drive was not without it's minor chaos with the twins trying to poke Ron throughout the drive. A couple of snaps from Molly for them to quit it, but otherwise was a pleasurable drive in the cramped car. The best part was getting out of the car though in front of mundane individuals. Clint happened to notice a young kid watch them coming out of the car. He saw their wide eyes and placed a finger to his lips. A smile came to the kid and covered their mouth, nodding all the while.

"Clint what are you doing?"

"Nothing Bruce. Let's get the kids' stuff."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders but assisted Arthur, Molly, and Clint in getting the gaggle of children going to Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The large group squeezed between the many muggle families and groups heading off for their own platform, recieving a few curious glances at the large group and Percy's visable owl.

"Ron! Hermione!" a familiar voice that was not a part of the current group called out. Ron stopped his little trolley carrying his school trunk and turned to see Harry Potter himself come running up with his own trolley of trunks and supplies with his owl Hedwig pertched in her cage a top the stack. Ron raised a brow curiously as Harry seemed to be alone. Was he alone last year? He couldn't recall. But come to think of it, he didn't recall actually meeting his family at all. Maybe he and his dad could pay a visit before flying back home to America. He pushed that thought aside in favor of greeting his friend.

"Harry! Good to see you." Ron stopped his cart and spread out his arms for a hug, somewhat of a more common greeting for him from being thankful his family returned from missions. Harry seemed surprised but pulled his cart next to Ron's and awkwardly set his arms to hug Ron. Ron and Harry gave a quick embrace much to Clint's amusement. Bruce looked over at the archer.

"So Ron _is_ a hugger."

"Never said he wasn't Bruce."

Ron chuckled.

"You don't call, you don't write!" he began ranting playfully. "One might think you didn't miss me!"

Ron's grin falter as Harry looked a bit worried before meeting eyes.

"Funny story about that."

"Do tell," Ron quickly said, much like how he had seen Clint do inbetween otherwise dramatic pauses from his Uncle Nick when he would be delivering information for missions.

Harry opened his mouth to regale Ron of what thwarted him from writing letters when a voice called out, "Let's go you two! We don't want to miss the train!" Hermione, ever the voice of reason was about halfway between the retreating forms of the Weasley clan plus two and the two boys catching up.

"Tell you about it on the train."

"That a promise?" Ron joked.

"I don't think I could wait longer than that."

"Fair point."

With that, the two walked to the brick column between platforms nine and ten.

"Everybody have everything?" Molly fussed over pretty much everyone. Nods, and affirmatives were acknowledged as each one was at various levels of eagerness to just go through the gate and go on to Hogwarts. Alright, Percy, you go forst with Ginny."

"But mum," Ginny whined, "Can't I go through by myself?"

"Ginny, it's tradition. Please go through with Percy."

Ginny didn't argue but had a slightly annoyed look as she stood by Percy, set so she would follow immediately after him with her supplies so they would arrive "together" in he crowded train station. Percy wasted no time in going through. with Ginny hot on his heels. Bruce and Clint were none too amused.

"So we just run into a brick wall. Fun."

Well, ah, if you hold onto us, you'll be able to go through," Arthur explained, awkwardly holding out his arm for someone of the muggle variety to loop with so they may enter.

"Alright. But if I break my nose doing this," Clint muttered as he looped his arm with Arthur. Bruce did so gingerly with Misses Weasley as she turned to face the children.

"Fred, George, I waspnt you to go after Ron, Hermione and Harry alright."

"Whatever you say mum!"

"It would be our pleasure." They both gave an over the top bow at their mother's request. Too used to their antics, she pulled Bruce through the magical gate with Arthur and Clint following. As Arthur and Clint were about to leave, Clint cried out, "See you on the other side!"

And with that he disappeared. Hermione gave a wave,

"I'll see about seating."

"What for? We'll be over before you get unpacked!" Ron commented. Hermione then ran through the magical entrance and disappeared.

"Well, you two are next," Fred commented tapping them both on the shoulders. Ron and Harry prepared themselves, setting themselves at a run. They approached the brick column with slight apprehension despite knowing that this was the entrance to platform 9 and 3/4. It was hard to run into bricks when you know that should hurt.

Three steps, two steps...

Now throu-

A loud crash echoed through Kings cross as two boys, a red head and a black haired boy lay on the ground, their luggage astrewn from crashing into an obviously solid brick column, with two older red heads looking at them in shock and horror.

 **The squeaking side is an actual thing in my family. Granted it did evolve into something else but that will be explained. So when my younger sister was a wee one, she declared that larger people can't sneak up on littler people because they take up more space, would have heavier footfalls, and overall were easily visible. My mind went, "Challenge accepted". So for more than a decade since then, my large behind has snuck up on her without her knowledge, and my short sausage fingers have poked her in her side, under her arm right near her tummy. She didn't laugh. She squeaked. I never stopped poking, but her reaction evolved. As she grew up, it remained sensitive, and now when poked, her body would snap like a folding chair. Sometimes to the point when she would go to the ground. I do it less now. And she has learned her lesson that bigger people can sneak up on smaller people.**


	25. Alternate Route to school

Clint waited for Ron to come through. It would be entirely too long to see him again and he didn't want to waste any of that time. Seconds passed feeling entirely too long.

"Somethings wrong."

Arthur stood near him as Molly had been helping Percy and Ginny as well as Hermione get their luggage aboard the train.

"Just give them a moment. Fred and George are probably just talking to them." Arthur tried to sound confident, but he was hardly a good actor with the mostly deaf archer being able to easily pick up his worry.

"We should go get them," Clint sighed. He wanted his son with him. Him being trapped in magical britain while his son was standing in the nonmagical was not what he wanted. And he doubted if Ron missed the train that he would have Ron back for school. Ron knew that.

"Alright then," Arthur spoke loudly, clasping arm in arm to allow Clint through the brick didn't hesitate as both men walked with purpose to the muggle portion of King's Crossing. 5...4...3...2-1-

Both men were sprawled on the ground, their faces hurting from going in as fast as they did, into a brick wall. Clint recovered faster than Arthur, getting up quickly and pulling him up as well.

"I'm going to take a stab in the dark here and say tnat wasn't supposed to happen."

"No. No it wasn't."

"Ah Arthur Weasley," a poisonous voice cut through the crowd of parents and children. From Clint's side glance, he saw long very wizardy robes and long silvery hair. Clint casually moved his head to confirm, yep, it was one of the men Tony had a battle of egos with in the bookstore not long ago.

"Lucius."

Clint could hear the dislike and displeasure dripping from Arthur's words.

"Having trouble with your magic?"

There was a barb there. One Clint could hear, but didn't understand. It was only when steely eyes gave him a disinterested glance did he pick up on the man's slight.

"Well, you think your magic could get me through?" he spoke loudly, attracting attention, "That is what you are so generously offering isn't it?"

Arthur stared at him in bewilderment, not knowing what Clint was thinking. Lucius bristled at the notion. Clint unlinked arms with Arthur and held his arm out to Lucius, a grin on his face waiting for Lucius to take it, "Unless, you are getting on in years and you yourself are having trouble performing. My condolences."

A hauty rage built on his face, only to be smothered by society's conventions and his only standing among the masses it seemed.

"Hardly. My magic has only grown more powerful with age, as is the case with any well put together family."

"Great. So get me through to the other side."

Despite clear disgust, the eyes of those around questioning his magic in this little challenge were all on him. He roughly placed a hand on Clint's shoulder and marched him to the brick exit to King's Crossing. Steady, irritated footfalls were watched by many as Lucius Malfoy was coerced into helping a muggle man. Steady... 5- 4- 3- 2- and- a smash against the brick as the two men walked right into it. Lucius fell to the floor from the surprise from not going through. Clint remained upright, all too prepared for the possibility now.

Lucius got up quickly. A livid expression on his face as he walked to the entrance once more, this time without Clint.

"The entrance has been closed."

"Half of my children are stuck on the other side," Arthur spoke lowly, "Follow me," he gestured to Clint.

"Where are we going?" He followed with no hesitation. Arthur, despite being bad at hiding his emotions, or perhaps because of it, Clint had no issue trusting him in regards to Ron.

"We're going to the ministry."

* * *

Once Ron and Harry began to groan, Fred and George moved to help the two. Fred made it to Ron first so George helped Harry up.

"Nasty spill you two."

"Yeah, are you two alright?"

"Never better," Ron groaned as he was pulled to his feet. He glared at the brick wall that he ran into, "It do that often?"

"Never. It's always worked." George commented. He placed his hand to the brick, ready to feel give, instead to feel cold brick and concrete. His brows furrowed in honest confusion when a new and far older voice grunted behind them, "And what sort of mischief are you lot up to?"

His tone was matter of fact and his expression hard. The rotund baby faced man clearly held a "I'm not getting paid enough for this" expression. It kind of reminded Ron of the seldom seen and often complaining and snarky forehead of security at Stark towers, Happy Hogan.

"Nothing sir. Just had an accident," Ron groaned feeling the jolting ache from crashing into the column. Of course, magic was proving to be unreliable now that they were being watched.

"Sure, you did. You four come with me."

"What for?" One of the twins, Ron wasn't sure which one, had asked sounding confused and a bit defensive.

"To keep you trouble making lot from running into more bricks."

It was then a distinctive chime made itself known. Harry glanced at the clock to see it had struck noon.

"We missed the train!" he loudly whispered to George. George looked at the clock and seemed to realize what Harry said. He groaned and wondered just how they were going to make it to Hogwarts now.

"Even better," the man grumbled. "Now come on."

The four boys allowed themselves to be dragged off, their luggage and Hedwig in tow. Ron didn't fight it. Technically he knew he was listed as an American citizen because of his Uncle Nick and his connections with SHIELD. So how the British would deal with him was a mystery. Or did he have British citizenship? Molly and Arthur were British after all. And he was born in the UK. But his Uncle Nick did make a United States birth certificate. Any which way, he was now in trouble for someone else's actions.

The four soon came to a smallish room, seperated into sections by the bars that made holding cells until police or the like could pick up trouble. Ron wasn't too wild about that.

"In," the man grumbled.

"But we haven't done anything wrong!" Harry spoke out.

"He's right."

"Lots of rules here-" Ron didn't like where this was going.

"You got one that really says we can't run into walls?"

"Doubt it," the twins traded off and on. Ron saw the man grow more irritated. Against the rules or not, the twins had pretty much guaranteed their stay in the little holding room until who knows who showed up. Given that his dad, Arthur and Molly were through the entry that had been sealed shut along with Hermione and Bruce, the closest people... that was Harry's family wasn't it?

Other than passing glances, he didn't think he actually ever interacted with them. Harry didn't talk about them. But that could easily mean they were boring. Then again it was Tony that brought Harry to get his supplies... Was that because Tony was well, Tony?

"That's it you lot! Sit in there while I call your parents."

Oh, yeah, the guard was not happy with them. Ron groaned as he was led into a cell area with the twins and Harry. Their supplies and Harry's Hedwig outside the cells just sitting there. Hedwig looked indignant and a little irritated in Ron's opinion. But what did he know about birds and their supposed expressions?

"How you gonna do that?" Fred asked, "Our parents don't use fellytones."

Ron looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time, baffled by his lack of knowledge. Tony had even gifted them with cellphones as a method of flaunting his wealth.

"It's telephone. Or Cell phone," Ron corrected.

"Is it?"

"It's not what dad calls them," George laughed.

"Well he is wrong," Ron muttered.

"Oi! One of you kids better have a contact or I'll call the police."

Harry paled and muttered out a number the man barely made out.

"What's your name kid?" He grumbled as he dialed the number.

"Harry sir. Harry Potter."

"Harry eh?" His eyes darted away from the cell, "Yes. Hello, this is Andrew Moores. I am calling from King's Crossing- Sir are you listening to me?" a pause as a loud voice was heard in undescriptive grumbles. "Sir I don't particularly care at the moment. You are the guardian of one Harry Potter are you not?" Another pause, this time no voice was heard from the phone. "We have him here at the station. I assume where you either left him or were supposed to pick him up. I found him with another young man running into a brick wall."

Harry turned away looking embarrassed. The man- Mr. Moores- looked as though his irritation was growing.

"Why would I know why he ran into the wall?! I witnessed him do it. I don't know your kid!"

Harry's head lowered and Ron moved between Harry and Mr. Moores. Fred and George reacted similarly with one pulling Harry to the side furthest from the man and the door to the cell and the other moving to stand between Ron and the angry security man kept having a back and forth with Harry's guardian while Fred and George surrounded Ron and Harry.

"He sounds pleasant," Fred commented with a bit of humor referring to the security man who was growing angrier than the twins thought he had any real right to be.

"He does have a bit of a temper." Harry spoke as a matter of fact. Ron wasn't quite sure if he was talking about the security guard though. There was something in his tone that didn't quite match with talking about someone you had just met.

It was as Ron was pondering this, he heard the phone slam down back into its' stationary charger.

"Your guardian will be here soon Mister Potter. You three. Your guardian's contacts. Now."

"I'm telling you our parents don't have a fellytone- "

"Telephone," Ron corrected, "It's telephone.

"You sure? That still doesn't sound right."

"I think I know what I'm talking about!" Ron hissed. This wasn't the magical half of Britain where he was following them around so he didn't get lost or hurt. He might not be in America, but he had been raised with all the comforts and knowledge of basic and modern technology.

"Fine. Then what are your parent's names so I can find them," the man stated.

"Ah, well. Mum said we should never talk to strangers," George commented.

"Too right you are Gred. And what kind of sons would we be if we didn't listen to our mum." Fred nodded in agreement, hiding a smile from the man. While funny, Ron had a feeling this would not end well. The man just sat in his chair and watched the boys with a dark scowl. Nowhere near as bad as Snape's but still an impressively dark look that made Ron very uncomfortable.

It was something about his sharp features and bright green eyes that looked particularly nasty as they glared daggers at them.

He didn't hide exactly, but he did stand closer to one of the twins and made his body partially obscured. Green eyes weren't common, but they weren't exactly rare either. Harry had rather striking green eyes after all. But the dirty-blond man's eyes almost seemed toxic.

"I'll have the police come to pick you three up once Mister Potter here is with his family."

Ron could only think how proud his family would be to find out that he would continue his Aunt Natasha's tradition of having a criminal history in their home country. Would they laugh at the stupidity, casually comment how they could erase it, maybe even "speak" to the man who got him trouble for essentially doing what he was told? There was no real bad aspect from his family back in the states. But would it be brought up to his family here in Britain? Would he be in trouble?

"Don't worry Ronnie. Everything will be fine."

"Too right. Mum and dad must have realized we never made it to the train."

"And they'll be looking for us with your- erm…"

"My dad. What have you been calling him?" Ron asked now realizing he had no idea how they referred to his dad.

"Well, we kind of have been going back and forth calling him things. Right now he's the man with the face."

"The man... with the face?" Harry repeated, not entirely sure he could believe the twins.

"You know," Fred began, " _The face,_ " he continued adding a circular motion in front of his face with his hand.

"The man looks almost constantly mad."

"Oh he does not. You just don't know him-"

"Would you all just shut up!"

"What's? We can't talk now?"

"That seems-"

"What did I just tell you?" It was a dark statment.

"Alright alright. Touchy."

The four sat in silence, making occasional funny gestures at one another. It was perhaps ten minutes or so when the door opened and a large, red faced whale of a man entered the room with fury on his face. His moustache bristled and he glared at Harry before facing the guard, his face taking a less red tone.

"Ah. Mister Moore, I am terribly sorry about my nephew. He is terribly confused, I assure you this kind of behavior will be dealt with."

" _That's_ your uncle Harry?"

"He looks like a full grown hog!"

"How dare you miscreants-! Get out of there _boy._ Time to go home." Harry stiffened at the large man's demand. Mr. Moore walked to the door and unlocked the door when a knock came from the open door. A stiff and prim woman stood in a nice albiet old fashioned dress that touched the floor.

"Pardon me, I'm here to pick up some lost boys." Her eyes went over To the trunks and owl that was along the wall, seperated from the young wizards. Her hand went into her purse and she elegantly pulled out a thin and long, clean crafted wand. Ignoring the bizzare looks and the questioning, "Ma'am who are you and what are you doing here," from the guard, she spoke in a clear voice, "Diminuendo."

The once large objects shrunk to practically pocket sized sans the cage for the owl. Heels clicking across the ground, the two men stared at her in slight awe but mostly horror at her casual display of something so... magical.

"I'm not very good with shirnking animals, do you boys mind if I let the owl out?"

"Be our guest," Harry answered the witch, also shocked to see the casual magic from someone he didn't know as well as in a more muggle location. She opened the cage and cast a quick spell on the window to open it, allowing Hedwig to fly free before shrinking the cage and pocketing it as well.

"Who the devil are you?" the guard asked. The woman's lips quirked upward slightly. She turned to face the guard with no hesitation.

"Just a figment of your imagination," she declared, "Obliviate."

Her wand movement was impeccable and a faintly noticable but bright green light hit the guard. He fell over in a confused stupor, "Obliviate." she spoke again hitting Vernon Dursley. She walked across the floor quickly, her heels clicking on the ground as she walked to the boys.

"Huddle up. Let's get you boys to school," she said, entirely too cheery for just having done... something to the two adult hands clasped onto Fred's shoulder and George's back. The twins then grabbed the soon to be second year boys and held tight. Ron felt his stomach twist in a familiar but not immidiatly recognizable until the world around him wasn't a cell, but rather a small village that he didn't recognize. Harry fell over looking a bit queasy.

"Sorry about that boys. Best not to waste time with the muggle folk. No sense wasting time talking it out when they'd just be obliviated."

"Who are you?" Ron blurted out.

"Ah, Angela Pickering. I'm from the Ministry of Magic's Statute of Secrecy Task Force."

"They sent the Ministry for four kids who missed the train."

"Mere happenstance boys. It's just that one international boy is supposed to be monitored to get to Hogwarts safe and sound."

"Because of Ron?"

Harry's voice caught the attention of the woman. Her eyes widened as she noticed who the messy black haired boy was.

"Well I'll be a mandrake root... You're Harry Potter!"

"He is?!" George joked.

"No!" Fred continued sarcastically, "Really? This skinny brat?"

"And you never told us!"

Ron rolled his eyes at the twins' antics for the revelation the woman was going through. She coughed into her hand, attmepting to regain her composure.

"Sorry. It didn't really occur to me that you two would be the same age."

"Why not? We were about the same age and were out of the magical world at the same time."

There was an awkward pause from the woman and the twins. Harry and Ron gave their best innocent expressions from Ron's inquiry.

"Well, it simply did not cross my mind. Now come along boys, Hogwarts awaits."

"We're not at Hogwarts, and this doesn't look like Diagon Alley-"

"Ah, that's because we're in Hogsmeade. The school's not too far from here," Fred interrupted Harry.

"You'll be able to go third year. You two will love it."

"Keep up boys. I'm only dropping you off."

"Dropping us off? How will we get to Hogwarts then?" Ron questioned warily.

"Oh, a teacher had a prior engagement here. He will be taking you to the school post haste."

The smile on her face was unnerving as the four followed. Fred and George narrated the shops and eateries that they passed, telling delightfully funny moments that occured in the stores that surely had even better stories when they were brought into a book store. It was cramped. For some reason, the aisles were filled with many witches, each facing the same dircetion with an eager expression on their faces.

"Please my dear ladies, be patient," a smooth voice cut through the air like one of Clint's arrows on the archery range. Ron and Harry exchanged glances. "I still have plenty of time to sign all of your books."

Ms. Pickering parted the crowd almost effortlessly, much to the disgrunted women's displeasure. She lead the boys to the well decorated desk of the well groomed blond who was to be their defense against the dark arts teacher. His blue eyes shined brightly and his award winning smile grew slightly wider.

"Ah, it would seem as though some of my new students just couldn't wait to see me," he chuckled. Standing up, he was in notably a purple color he seemed rather fond of. He gave a grand gesture for the four to come behind the table where four stools, far less impressive than Gilderoy's chair, were waiting for them. Ron could feel a biting retort begging to come about talking about how this must be a hallucination from running into the brick wall to hard, but whether it was Gilderoy's narcissism, or that he noticed that Ron had something less pleasant to say, or even wilder, that he recalled them from the day they got their supplies; Gilderoy continued speaking, drawing the crowd's attention from them. "As many of you know, I will not be traveling for my exploit's this year, instead, I look to cultivate the minds of the next generation. So that they may be as well prepared for rhe world as well, me."

The swooning from the audience had Ron pretending to gag. Harry covered his mouth to hide his laugh while Fred and George just looked amused.

"You four stay with Professor Lockhart. He will take you the rest of the way to Hogwarts." She pulled their school supplies out of her bag and handed them to the twins, "I'm certain you two will restore their size once you make it to the school."

"Why isn't she taking us to the school? It'd be better than this," Ron asked the twins with the woman now joining the crowd in trying to acquire Lockhart's autograph.

"School's magic barrier."

"Only certain people can get in. Like us students or professors."

"Really?"

"Nah. It just keeps out dangerous folk."

"People try and let it be for students and teachers unless their higher up in the ministry. So there's that."

"Huh."

They passed idle chitchat, often told to be quiet from the patrons or the book keep who hung off of Gilderoy Lockhart's every word. Seconds melted by at a snail's pace when finally Gilderoy Lockhart bid his fairwell to the patrons and the book keep, having the boys follow him to his carriage with black skeletal creatures Ron had briefly seen briefly before. A creature only seen when one sees death.

"Come along children, into the carriage." The twins gave a dramatic sigh, then followed into the carriage.

"Are you alright Ron?"

"I'm fine. Say, Harry?"

"Yes?" he responded.

"When you look in front of the carriage, what do you see?"

Harry's brows furrowed as he looked to the front of the carriage.

"I see, nothing. Are you alright Ron?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Must be seeing things from hearing Lockhart speak so much."

"That's a tragedy," Harry good naturedly chuckled. Ron smiled back and followed Harry into the carriage, being the last one in. He grimaced at the twins and his friend upon realizing that he would have to sit next to Lockhart. Jokes on them, they'd have to look at him all the way there. Though that might have been the better option with the floral scent he was wearing was heinous when close up.

"Right, who's ready for a Marvelous year," Gilderoy spoke with the utmost confidence as the carriage began to move, "With the ever Marvelous Me?"

"We _always_ look forward to school professor," George commented, laying the sarcasm on rather thickly.

"Well this year will be a real treat. Your last professor, hardly a man quite of my caliber."

"Nor the one before that, or the one before that, or the one before that-"

"-and so on and so on," the twins joked. A knowing look bloomed across their new teacher's face.

"Ah, but as your renouned teacher, I do plan to put the curse of the Defence Against the Dark Arts position to rest. After all that I have accomplished, it should be effortless to put an end to the silly one year curse."

Ron did not like the way he said that. His voice may be like velvet, percieved as warm and inviting, but there was something bitter, almost toxic about the way he nearly promised. Just enou to make intentions known, but having an easy out. It was something both his dad and Aunt Tasha had done when they needed flexibility to do a job. For a man who swore by his books, he didn't seem to be the type to make promises, just vague statements. Ron could only hope, this man was not selling snake oil like many in his family, but was more like Tony where the vagueness would allow him to exceed expectations.

 **Hope this was enjoyable for you guys. My brain gave me a drop of inspiration. So yeah. Clint is causing some minor trouble. He and Ron both run into brick walls...**


	26. Great hall sing-a-long

Every minute was heinous. Sitting next to Gilderoy was torture. He could care less that Recognized as a recognized honored Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League; and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. Why would Ron care that he invented an Occamy egg yolk shampoo that would have apparently done wonders for their hair, but was too dangerous and expensive for open market; or that it subsequently became his dream to market these products. What use could he have knowing his favorite colour was lilac?

They were already stuck with his books as school material, _Break with a Banshee,_ _Gadding with Ghouls,_ _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests,_ _Holidays with Hags,_ _Magical Me_ (autobiography), _Marauding with Monsters_ , _One Hundred and One Practical Uses for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans(_ okay that one sounded a little interesting), _Travels with Trolls_ , _Voyages with Vampires_ , _Wanderings with Werewolves_ , and _Year with the Yeti._

He didn't need to hear a first hand recount of the various adventures he had documented in his books. They'd have to do that in class wouldn't they?

Not to mention, every time someone said something, he'd redirect the comment back to himself as he stroked his own ego. Ron swore his head wasn't going to fit out the door when they reached Hogwarts. They's have to use that shrinking spell on his head to get him out. Ron was certain he would have died of boredum had he been suffering alone.

"...It was a grueling endeavor, but I was prepared-" he narrarated on.

"Sounds like the time my Uncle Phil was working on a case with my Uncle Nick at a video store involving a shapeshifter, a blond woman and eventually how he got his cat," Ron blurted out.

"What?" Harry responded looking baffled, but far more interested in that tale than Lockhart's. The twins also looked eager if not a touch confused. their eyes locked in on Ron, much to Gilderoy Lockhart's displeasure. His blue eyes had almost a thin layer of ice to them. His smile, to his credit remained unphased.

"Well you can't say something like that and leave us hanging Ron!" George added, a certain eagerness that held amused spite. Ron felt his face heat up in slight embarassment. It had been a story his uncle had told him over the years of living in the helicarrier. He had gotten into an arguement with an agent as to why Ron was allowed to call him Uncle Nick or Nicky. About how he failed to get him to call him Fury consistently, something which was an interesting point in his childhood. His Uncle Phil had tried to help by telling the story of how his Uncle Fury had apparently apprehended a spy because someone used his first name. The most Ron had ever gotten from it was there was a destruction of video store had uncovered an attempted genocide where his Uncle Nick could trust no one but his gut. Only the summer of the invasion, did his Uncle Nick let it slip that the people he was dealing with, were pretty much aliens. Top secret hush hush stuff. But the invasion confirmed on a global scale that they were not alone in the universe.

"You guys really want to hear one of my Uncle Nick's "War Stories"? They can be pretty wild-"

The cart slowed to a stop, pulling the males' attention away from the potential stories.

"Ah, It looks like we are here. Step lively boys, Hogwarts awaits," Gilderoy Lockhart spoke in a jovial manner. The twins wasted no time trying to escape the carriage. It was jostled and shaken from the two's antics. Ron snorted at the exhuberent behavior as they tumbled out of the carriage. Their robes now slightly dusty as they cried out, "Oh blessed be! Free of the carriage at last!"

Harry stepped out next, far more calmly than the twins. An amised grin on his face from the twins' antics. Ron followed a bit more reserved but no doubt just as amused as Harry. Gilderoy Lockhart stepped out with jovial energy, as though his mass fan base were watching his every movement and hanging onto everything he was doing.

"Come along boys. You can wait in the Great Hall for your fellow students."

Fred and George sent a mischievous look. They did eagerly follow Gilderoy with a sick glee on their faces.

"God help us all. They're going to destroy the school before it even starts," Ron muttered to Harry.

"Think we're going to start the year with negative points?" Harry asked. Ron smirked and waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Harry gave Ron a light shove. Ron laughed and ran forward. Harry followed, struggling to keep up with Ron's long and lanky legs. His stamina wasn't half bad though as he could keep the consistant pace. Ron did slow down a few feet behind the twins and Harry shortly followed, a grin on his face and ready to enter Hogwarts. Ron watched as Fred and George entered the halls with great familiarity, and Harry, there was something odd about it. When they entered the year prior, it was wonderment and fascination. But looking at him now, there was something he had seen on agents who had come back from missions, most notably his dad.

It was the look of someone who had just returned home. Ron's stomach churned, feeling a touch sour at the recent memory of actually witnessing Harry's uncle in close proximity. Was the man always like that? Was what he had said back at the station a threat to actually harm Harry for something that wasn't even his fault?

Harry didn't talk about his family often last year. Was this why?

* * *

The stone walls of the castle, eerily barren and empty from the lively manner the castle they knew it to be once student had arrived, were rather welcoming as each step made them believe they would soon be seperated from Gilderoy Lockhart's prattling voice. Fred and George yearnfully turned their gazes to odd statues and locations, confusing both Ron and Harry.

They didn't cause any chaos on their way to the Great Hall, the most they did was, as they passed a house elf, they quickly removed the shrunken luggage from their pockets and threw it at the elf. Ron was about to yell at them for being asses, the House elf merely snapped their fingers. the luggage vanishing before their eyes effortlessly.

"You two better have not lost out luggage," Ron blurted out.

"Course not Ronnie."

"Just givin' it to a house elf."

"They'll make sure it's all where it needs to be."

"As the right size?"

"One can only hope," George sang, skipping along merrily. Ron stood, jaw slightly slack at the casual interaction with the odd creature.

"And here I thought I had Hogwarts understood," Ron stated.

"Dobby was a house elf," Harry added. Ron looked over at his green eyed friend.

"Dobby?" Ron questioned.

"Oh right. I haven't told you," he spoke in a slightly lower tone. The twins were too engrossed in some sort of prank plan and Gilderoy was too engrossed in himself to notice anything. "There was a house elf who had been intercepting my mail-"

"What?!" Ron hissed, "Isn't that illegal?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not quite sure. My uncle did try to stop me from getting my Hogwarts letter last year."

"He did?"

"Yeah. I just thought it was odd someone would address it to my cu-room."

Ron paused for a moment. What was Harry going to say before he changed the word to room? His quarters?

"Okay. So how'd you get the letter?"

"Well, I didn't get that letter specifically. When there was no response, more and more letters began arriving. My uncle was so furious, he actually made us get in the car and travel out of Surrey. We travelled for hours, sometimes he would just abruptly turn around muttering how he would have to shake them off. We spent the night at a hotel, and by morning, there was a large bag of letters. He got so flustered that he took us to the shore, rented a boat and took us to this rather shambled building on a rocky little island a bit of ways out."

Ron listened utmost attention. That desperate to avoid a magical letter. Then again, who was he to judge given his dad's reaction to the letter back into the alley. He was hauled around like a sack of potatoes. Who was he to judge reactions to oddities?

"We stayed there until midnight- on my birthday actually-"

"When is your birthday?" Ron asked. It just occured to him that he was kind of clueless as to his friend's birthday. And, for that matter, Hermione's birthday. Hadn't she been interacting with him for over a year- oh shoot he didn't know her birthday!

"The Thirty-first of July."

Ron made an internal note to try and remember. That and to get Neville and Hermione's birthday date.

"Sorry. Go on. You were talking about an island?"

"Yeah. At midnight there was a thunderous boom at the door. The door actually fell down and Hagrid was on the other side."

"That must have been a shock."

Harry smiled, "It certainly was."

Harry continued to talk about the interaction between Hagrid and his family and his first time in Diagon Alley.

Ron compared it to his first time up until his subsequent kidnapping and reuniting with his biological family. All up until the four were left in the Great Hall to their own devices. Potentially a horrible decision really. What with the twins in a large room, minimal supervision as Gilderoy left to "get ready" for the feast, and the promise of the entire school being coralled into a lone room. All that was in there was the infamous sorting hat, placed casually on the stool the first years would sit upon. They probably should have had more supervision than a hat that was muttering through possible song lyrics.

"A thousand years to make, generations creating this fate...beginning here at Hogwarts, you're never too late..."

"Think that will be the song?" Fred commented, lounging at the Griffindor table in a way Percy would never have allowed as prefect.

"I thought he had all year too work on it. Who knew the hat who pretty much only works one day a year, would wait to write a song?"

The hat morphed, folding itself as though to face the four early arrivals who were critiquing the hat's song.

"If you believe you think you can do better," the hat began with it's usual smarter-than-thou tone, "You may proceed to try."

"You're on!" George accepted the challenge. He wasted no time pulling the other three boys into a huddle to plan a rousing and memerable opening number.

Keeping their voices low, they made sure the hat couldn't hear them. The hat went back to it's own attempt at creating a song. It was after they had it mostly figured out that Gilderoy slipped back in, and into a seat at the teacher's table. Mere minutes later, other teachers began to slip in. Most notably was the Lioness leader of their own house, Professor McGonagall.

"Gilderoy, I hope these four haven't caused you any trouble."

Fred and George had the nerve to look slightly offeneded. It may have been better had their lips not been slightly curling upward.

"Oh Professor, don't tell us you think that little of us."

"You hurt us Professor," the other twin proclaimed, clenching his hand at his chest. A knowing gaze, built from decades of seeing trouble makers remained unamused. There was nothing she could see out of place however. She'd have her wand ready in case of an over zealous prank, but she was sure Severus Snape would as well. The other teacher eventually trickled in, small talk occuring between them as Professor McGonagall ducked out to guide the first years through the halls, and Dumbledore taking his place in the center of the teacher's tables. Conversation was largely kept seperate from the four boys and the teachers.

It was another two hours later that students second through seventh year began entering the room. A few made to sit down quickly while other actually noticed the four boys, stood in bafflement on them casually waiting there. A few double takes were taken as logically, no one knew how they got there. The chaos didn't really get started until Percy saw his three wayward brothers and Mister Harry Potter, sitting at the Griffindor table as though they had been there for hours. He wasted no time in briskly walking to them with a don't-lie-to-me/inquisitive look on his face.

"Where have you four been?"

"Didn't you know Perce?" George began.

"We got escorted by the Ministry of Magic." Fred solemnly nodded.

"The barrier closed at King's Cross and we couldn't get through," Ron hastily explained. He had come to figure if the twins had their way, the story would have been told from the middle, in reverse, and with their time with Lockhart tacked on as an afterthought.

"Harry! Ron!" "Ron! Harry!"

Two voices of their friends, Neville and Hermione called out to them. Harry and Ron both waved, gesturing the two over. Fred and George sent the second year boys knowing looks and a conspirital wink before heading to another part of the table to regale thier classmates of an overly fabricated account of how they made it to the school.

"Hermione! Neville!" "Neville! Mione!"

Neville sat down next to Ron while Hermione sat next to Harry. Ron looked over Hermione, well set and put together with everything in it's place sans her wild and currently rather untamable hair, where as in the inverse could be said about Neville.

"So, what have you been up to since we last saw you Neville?" Ron asked casually with a hint of humor in his voice. Neville looked a bit sheepish but chuckled.

"It's, erm... Nothing too bad," he attempted to avoid talking about whatever had happened.

"What happened?" Harry asked, a bit more sternly. It was Hermione who answered.

"Neville was defending me. Draco and his-his _followers,"_ she spat out as though it was the nastiest thing she could think of, "Came to my compartment this year while I was waiting for you two."

"Sorry Mione," Ron said feeling guilty. It may not have been their fault that the barrier closed, but he had essentially left her there without backup or companionship for the trip to Hogwarts. Thank goodness for Neville.

"I hope you have a good explanation as to where you two were," she replied, sounding hauty but looking relieved.

"We do. Now as you were saying?"

"You know Malfoy," Neville spoke, "He's a prat. He said some awful things and I got mad at him for saying those things... His two goons looked ready to hit us, so... I panicked, and pushed Malfoy out of the cabin. He, did not take too kindly to that. I'll tell you what, Crabbe's meaty fists, are not for show."

"You got into a fight on the train?" Ron looked worried, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. As long as he had known Neville from the invasion on NewYork, he didn't seem to be the type to throw the theoretical first punch. "What did that white snake say to make you so mad? Neville?"

"He called me a Mud-blood." Hermione had been the one to answer.

"A what?" Harry asked.

"It's a nasty term. Blood purists, use it to refer to Muggleborns. It's... a bad phrase implying that they're not clean."

Ron felt a nasty rage build up inside, he was sure Harry was experiencing it too.

"But they got what's coming. And if they say anything, they'll lose points too."

"Because they were in the fight?" Ron asked. Neville's lips curled into a whimsical smile.

"They won't say anything because I'll bet the only bruise Draco has, is the one on his bum. I don't think he'd want to show _that_ evidence to anyone."

There was a hearty laugh from the four, even as Neville winced from his bruises. It was mere moments later, that the older students were settled in, that the first years were lead in by Professor McGonagall. Ron and Harry shared a look, knowing that they would be talked about, no doubt for weeks with what they had planned with the twins. Ron took a deep breath. All eyes were on Sorting hat.

From Ron's lips came a raspy voice the older students recognized as the Hat's voice, but the seam didn't open for it to sing.

"A thousand years ago, a fine stone school was formed," Ron sang as the hat. Neville, being right next to Rin heard where the voice was coming from and stared gobsmacked at Ron, "Witches, Wizards of every class and line, came from far and wide," an almost Celtic rhythm to the tune was heard, "To head the teachings of a famed four whose glory knew no bound..."

"Perhaps you find yourself seeking honor!" Fred jumped up from his seat and sang out as loud as could be, "Bravery in combat still, testing metal of your own courage, within a lion's den. If you were to enter here, Griffindor ye be!"

"Or mayhaps the knowledge lost!" George followed, avoiding Percy's hand after he figured out the twins were up to something so soon into the year. He ran to the Ravenclaw table and belting out much to the shock and amusement of many of the teachers. "O'er many century. Flying high above the rest to view with Eagle's eyes. A nest to learn from Ravenclaw might your fortune be!"

Harry stood next, apprehensive as he drew what was considered the short stick with houses, "One may truly never know upon entering here, Only those of cunning, tight knitted as they are can enter the proud viper's pit, the Slytherin do learn."

Ron took stood next, gestured to the Hufflepuff table, "Or do your loyalties, guide you through your day. Where your own good fortune isn't many it is one, the house of badgers fierce together welcome you today, Upon their oh so noble name of Hufflepuff say all should learn today."

All four began to sing, "But where do any truly go, only one does know~So sit with the thinking cap to know where you be-e-e-long!"

There was a stunted clap that led to an amused applause.

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall spoke with absolute authority, "Back to your table and sit down."

George saluted the head lioness and booked it back to his spot next to Fred. Ron could feel his face heat up as people looked over at him and Harry for the odd musical performance. He could feel his ears hear up.

"Thank you, Missers Weasley, Weasley-Barton, and Mister Potter, for your delightful musical performance," Dumbledore spoke in his usual soft voice that just carried through the Great Hall. There were some chuckles as McGonagall walked to the hat, a scroll of parchment in hand.

"When I call your name, please step forward. Andrews, Mathew."

* * *

Tony sat in his lab, a normal occurrence withing the towed. He was working on his Iron Man suit, calm as could be when suddenly, his heart began to race. His breathing grew shallow and he, in an instant could only see the carnage of New York, and the wormhole to hell.

The cold, darkness of death that nearly took his life...

With a snap, he found himself clenching his counter, trying to keep upright.

"Are you alright sir?" Jarvis questioned.

"Yeah Jarvis," Tony brushed off, "Guess Pepper was right this one time and I do need more than two hours of sleep."

"Of course sir."

His haunted eyes went back to his work, his hands slightly trembling.

Tony got his hands to stop shaking and with a weary sigh he told Jarvis to save his work and to power down the lab for the moment. He felt like he needed a drink. Something strong. Of course, then Pepper would no doubt find out. She was the one who had monitored his drinking to know when to restock back before he had become Iron Man. She was also the one insisting he not have as many drinks now that he could theorhetically and impulsively, fly around the city in a mech suit filled with guns.

She should've given him some credit, Jarvis would never let him fly completely drunk. Nor would he ever let Tony just crash or destroy something for no reason.

And besides, he was doing the "responsible" thing and going to bed rather than drink and get wasted. Tomorrow (or later in the day) would be different as he got some sleep.

 **Hello** **all, posting this is my way to celebrate the fact that I was evicted from my mother's womb, many years ago on this day. My dear sister, Mysticarts, on this day was given a baby sister. On this day many years ago, I was presented to her, and in a surly, small child way, she looked into my parents' eyes and said, "Take it back."**

 **I hope ya'll are happy that that didn't happen.**

 **mysticarts: I was a three year old who thought I wanted a brother. Sue me.**

 **I thought you were _almost_ three...**


	27. Cold soup and Mandrakes

Ron slid as low as he could in his seat on the bench along with Harry as the first years were being called up one by one. Ron hardly listened as the students melted together with their names and houses. At least he hoped to until a stray, bouncing first year Gryffindor came bounding in his and Harry's direction. An unbounded and innocent smile stretched cheek to cheek as he approached the four second years.

"Hullo! Mind if I sit here with you?"

"Not at all," Neville spoke for the group. Ron watched as the boy quickly pulled out a camera that had been hidden in his robes and snapped a picture as another student was sorted into their house. Ron blinked as light spots danced across his vision.

"Ye olde camera doth blind me."

"Sorry bout that! My name's Colin! Colin Creevy. This is so exciting!"

The poor curly haired boy was practically bouncing in his seat next to Neville in pure amazement. Ron watched him as the light spots began to fade, wondering if _he_ was ever that energetic.

Maybe when he was waiting for his dad when he was little.

Another name was called and they clapped as was expected of them as another student was sorted into the house that society would form expectations based on the decision of a hat placed on a child's head.

Ron pulled himself up a bit straighter now that he was certain all eyes were on the first years being sorted. Harry waited a bit more, moving his bangs over his iconic scar before sliding up himself.

"Lovegood, Luna."

Ron's stomach rumbled, wanting the pompous fanfare of the first years getting sorted over with so they could eat.

"Ravenclaw!"

"Ronald!" Hermione hissed over his rumbling stomach, trying to not interrupt Professor McGonagall as she called another student.

"Hermione! I can't help it. I haven't eaten much since breakfast. I'm starving!" he loudly whispered.

"Why haven't you eaten?"

"We missed the train. And Lockhart didn't seem to fancy grabbing a bite."

"He didn't feed you guys?" Neville intervened. Harry shook his head.

"No. Honestly he never offered," Harry admitted.

"Who are we talking about?" Colin interupted with a giddy smile and curiosity. Harry and Neville jumped at the new voice where Hermione and Ron remained unphased. It wasn't hard not to be surprised when they were looking in the hyper boy's direction. Another student was called up as Ron leaned over Harry, towards Colin Creevy. Colin excitedly leaned in front of Neville. Neville and Harry leaned back instinctively as Hermione rolled her eyes and attempted to grab Ron's collar.

"Professor Lockha-ack!" he choked as he was pulled back by his collar. Collin pulled back at the sudden movement, no longer leaning in front of Neville and proclaimed, "Brilliant!"

"Mione!" Ron gasped as he was forced to sit in his spot.

"Ronald!" She hissed back. "Stay seated."

"Mione, if I hadn't sat down when I sang, I'm sure my behind would have taken root on his bench."

"Ew!" she stage whispered, "Why would you say that?"

"It seemed like the right thing to say," he replied as he joined the group clapping for yet another first year student. Hermione rolled her eyes at his explanation.

"Weasley, Ginerva."

Ron froze hearing his sister's name called. He swallowed nervously and turned his head to look up at the red haired girl, confidently making her way to the magical sorting hat.

The hat was delicately placed upon her head. Time seemed to slow for Ron as the seconds ticked by. Why was he so nervous? He hardly knew Ginny. She didn't seem to want to know him. She didn't seem to _like_ him. So why was he feeling nervous about his sister's placing?

He wasn't given a huge opportunity to overthink it as the hat called out, "Gryffindor!"

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as she jumped off the stool and bounded happily to the Gryffindor table, aceepting hugs from Fred and George. She didn't sit too far from the trickster twins as she sat proudly. Ron heard Dumbledore give his warning for the forbidden forest like he had the year prior. There was a few other things but Ron's focus was monopolized by Ginnie. His sister by all means, but the one sibling who he hardly knew.

He didn't know why it bothered him. But it was gnawing on his mind.

Thankfully, a wave of food for the opening feast took his focus back to his gnawing stomach. His eyes wandered over the food and began adding roast chicken thighs, heaps of red skinned mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, when he paused. Many were staring at a certain bowl that was visible every few seats. It was a type of red soup, tomato it seemed. Curiously, he grabbed the bowl and poured a small portion into the bowl next to his plate. He noticed corn and avacado. His eyes lit up, recalling his Auntuncle Fitzsimmons arguing whether Ron should try this dish. Aunt Simmons hated the dish but Uncle Fitz loved it. He put his spoon into the soup and took a bite.

The soup was oddly cold but far from unpleasant. The spice was pleasant on his tongue and the avocado was pleasantly fresh.

"What is that?" Neville asked seeing Ron's surprised but satisfied expression.

"It's Gazpacho. A cold and spicy tomato soup. Nev, Harry, Mione, you guys got to try this!"

His three friends seemed less than eager. The young first year who decided to join them on the other hand took Ron's advice and served himeslf a portion and eagerly took a bite. His eyes were wide with the flavor hitting his tongue. If his smile was any indication, he liked it.

* * *

"Did you see Malfoy's face?" Ron wheezed, his face reddened from laughter as the Slytherin house had left the Great Hall to begin the trek to their common room.

"Well, in his defense, that Gazpacho was certainly, _something,_ " Neville defended.

"You only say that because you didn't like it Nev. It was good," Ron responded in good fun.

"I wonder why Gazpacho was served. They didn't serve it last year," Hermione mentioned.

"Maybe the cooks wanted to try something new," Harry interjected.

The four waited to go to the common room with a chipper Colin Creevy eagerly asking Ron questions about the castle who, along with Hermione, had a running commentary of how the castle worked and how to work the castle. Harry had slid from his seat and moved next to Hermione to keep his distance from the hyper boy who seemed eager to take lots of pictures.

Given their time with Gilderoy, Ron wasn't too thrilled with the camera either but what was the liklihood they would be seeing the flash of that camera all year?

Another flash went off.

"You know, I never did get your names," Colin seemed to realize, "And I can't write home to me mum an' dad without knowing name."

"Hermione Granger." Hermione wasted no time in making her name known to the eager child.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," he said holding out his hand. Colin grabbed it and shook with the energy of an energizer bunny.

"Ron Barton," Ron introduced himself. Harry gave him a look Ron had taken to ignoring. They had their differences in how they lived and how they should live given Ron's unique family situation and Harry's well, lesser known situation. Ron made it a personal mission to figure out what was with Harry's family. And why Tony was involved?

Colin looked perplexed for a moment. Ron hoped that the kid had no idea his rather wild, newspaper making situation. Thankfully, his attention went to Harry.

"Harry. Harry Potter," Harry said, saying Potter rather quickly. Colin hardly seemed to notice as his eyes positively lit up. Without warning he snapped a picture, temporarily blinding Harry as he began to quickly say, "Oh wow it's such an honor to meet you! I can't believe it- I have so many questions! What's it like having stopped You-Know-Who? What's it like being in Gryffindor? Who's your best friend?-"

Harry's green eyes were filled with shock as Colin spoke as fast as Hermione with the same disturbing not breathing between sentences trick. He kept asking questions until Ron decided Harry really didn't need this wild hyper question filled boy talking his ear off.

"Colin. _Breathe_."

It may not have been the best thing to say but it did redirect Colin's attention. He sid in fact take a deep breath, possibly readying to say something when Colin was called to join his fellow first year students on a quick tour of the castle led by Percy the Prefect. Ron waved goodbye to Colin and to his amusement, Colin waved back.

Ron snorted as he disappeared from sight.

"We're heading to the common room," George spoke from behind Ron making Hermione jump. Ron was surprised but after years of living with his dad, Aunt Tasha, and well, his over the pond family, few could make him jump from just speaking behind his back.

"You coming?" Fred finished. The four, knowing that they had to go to the common room and it wasn't so much an option as it was a requirement, stood up. With their stomachs pleasantly full, they began their walk to the portrait of the Fat Lady before the first years got there.

"We don't know the password," Ron defied.

"Perce passed it along," Fred stated.

"The Prefects get to know the password first and pass it along to everyone but the first years."

"Can't ruin the magic can yah?" Ron immediately quipped.

"Nope!" Fred responded.

* * *

The night was peaceful as everyone was stuffed from the feast. Deep slumber visited everyone and the morning came all too soon. With a yawn and stealthy movements, the four second years made their way to breakfast, getting their schedules for the year.

"Looks like we start with Herbology," Neville said happily.

"You really like Herbology huh Neville?" Ron nudged his friend. Neville gave an awkward chuckle.

"Yeah. It's a class I do really well in."

"Oh yeah? Maybe you and Hermione will be fighting for the best Herbology grade this year," Harry commented.

"I'm just hoping one of you will help me pass."

"What? You're not good with plants?"

"Not ones that can kill me. Nev, I'm going to level with you... There is not a lot of dirt to grow things in an air ship," Ron explained with the most serious expression he could muster, "If not for cooking, I wouldn't know a plant from a rock."

"You can cook?" Hermione questioned, disbelief bled into her voice.

"Some things. Simple things normally. Though Aunt Tasha and I would make Russian tea cookies around Christmas."

"When mum and I traveled, I learned a few recipes. Most the ones I learned use rice," Neville spoke up. Everyone turned to Neville in surprise. "What? I can cook too."

"I've cooked meals back at Privet," Harry piped up, "Breakfast and dinner."

"Eggs and bacon Harry?"

"Frequently."

"Huh. What about you Mione? You ever cook?" Ron asked as he dug into his breakfast.

"No. Not really. My parents did the cooking..." Her voice grew uncharacteristically quiet. Ron felt bad realizing that he brought up sad memories. None of the boys knew what to say and awkwardly began eating their breakfast. Thankfully the sad and awkward silence began to dissipate after breakfast as they walked to the greenhouse, swapping ideas as to what they would be doing in there that year.

Professor Sprout seemed incredibly excited to teach the class, living up to her ironic name that fit plants so well.

"Welcome students welcome!" she greeted with lots of enthusiasm, per the course of many teachers on the first day of school. Well, according to Harry and Hermione from their schooling before Hogwarts. Ron was hardly one to know as many of the teachers at Hogwarts did not have the same enthusiasm about teaching as Professor Sprout.

"It's absolutely lovely to have all of you here on time. I know first class of the year isn't always the easiest to make it to after a night of feasting. Now, we will be working in Greenhouse three today so come along."

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors followed the stout eitch to the chosen greenhouse for their lessons. Bottle necked at the door, it took a few minutes to get inside and all settled. Each seat had two pots in front of them. A smaller pot with something clearly growing in it, and a larger pot with a small portion of soil at the bottom. Professor Sprout waited until everyone one seated before speaking.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Hermione wasted no time raising her hand to no one's surprise. She hardly waited for Professor Sprout to call on her as she seemed to quote from memory, " _Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."_

"Excellent, Ten points for Gryffindor. The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is however, dangerous even to a skilled witch or wizard. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand shot up again as Neville's face contorted into self confusion. Ron absently wondered what that was about. Like before, Hermione wasted no time answering the question.

" _The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it._ "

"Exactly. Take another ten points. Now the Mandrakes here are very young, so the most their cries could do at this point is knock you out. So, everyone grab a set of ear muffs. Put them on nice and tight."

She waited as everyone put the earmuffs on. Ron swore though that Neville didn't pat them down in an effort to keep them on tight. Professor Sprout, with her own fuzzy pink ear muffs on, got her mandrake out with her with the first pull. Ron was incredibly thankful for the earmuffs because good god were these things loud. He watched as she replanted the ugly Java the Hut looking thingwith only its leaves remaining uncovered as it grew quiet beneath the soil.

"Alright, now it's your turn she bellowed so they could hear her. Ron dreaded what was to come. Nonetheless, he pulled his screaming and crying mandrake like every- What was going on at Neville's spot? Instead of grabbing the stem and yanking the mandrake out, he dipped his fingers into the soil around the inner edges of the pot, and slid out the entire mandrake along with the dirt still clinging. His mandrake didn't seem to notice as it's mouth moved in a less screaming fashion. Ron watched in shock, placing his Mandrake in the pot and quickly filling it with soil to get his to just shut up. Neville seemed to move slower, carefully lowering the mandrake into the new pot. His mouth was open and saying something Ron could only guess was a lullabye of some sort as he tried to read his lips. One by one as the mandrake cries died down, no one seeming to be aware of the quietly effiecent job Neville had done with the repotting of his Mandrake.

By the end of it though, Only Neville could boast not being sweaty of terribly dirty from the lesson. It earned him a few odd looks, but everyone had at least seen him repot the Mandrake at a glance. He had clearly done the work.

It was with his not-so-tired and not-so-dirty smile he suggested a run to the washroom for his friends. With a joking grin Ron held out his arms for a hug. Neville ran from the lanky red head with Harry and Hermione hot on their heels all the way to the washroom.

 **I can hear Mysticarts internal screaming from miles away. I just had to refrence her story Venture's Adventure for Takos. She is probably mad at me.**

 **That and she only edited the first four hundred words of this or so.**

 **Anywho, diversion from the path with having to keep everyone in character that fits the changes of their lives. Fun!**


	28. Cornish pixies

After getting clean, it was a rush to Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. The four were out of breath from the run and practically collapsed in their seats, Their fatigue, not alone as other Gryffindors made their way in before McGonagall started the class. Unlike their first year, she wasn't waiting on the table as a cat. She would most likely come into the room the minute class started. Hermione sat next to Neville as Ron took a seat next to Harry.

It was mere minutes for the class to be in full attendance and Professor McGonagall walked in. Talking went down to silence as no one wished to anger the Deputy Headmistress of the school, so soon into the year at least.

"It is good to see all of you back and on time," she spoke clearly as she walked to her desk. Her wand out, she swished and flicked, sending a beetle to everyone's table.

"Today will be your refresher on magic, as the rules make it so casting is not allowed outside class walls until you are an adult. Your assignment is to turn your beetle, into a button."

With that statement, the class began, attempting to do the magic they had cast the previous year. Hermione didn't hesitate to help Neville as she completed the assignment rather quickly much to McGonagall's delight, awarding ten points to Gryffindor. Ron pulled out his own wand and whispered the spell required to change the small beetle into a button. Just a button. Nothing fancy. His face contorted into confusion as the beetle all too easily shifted form into a glossy button. Gently, he picked up the button, ready for it to reveal a set of wings or little legs from an incomplete spell. It was not the case though as it was fully plastic. A feat he had trouble with the previous year when they had been using rats to make goblets.

His eyes darted over to Harry to see him having a bit of trouble from his summer without magic. He relaxed, believing he had figured out why the spell was now easier. He had been working with Doctor Strange during the summer, still casting spells. Harry had not. It wasn't that he was better, it was the fact that he got to keep in the flow of using his magic. That had to be it.

Harry happened to look over to see the button in Ron's hand.

"Do not ask me how I did it Harry," Ron chuckled. He rubber his eyes similar to a tired manner. "Just eh, don't make the button complex, keep it the same color as the bug and uh... give it a go?"

Harry rolled his eyes accepting Ron's less than stellar and rather basic advice with good humor as he tried the spell again.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall gasped. Ron stilled and didn't turn his head, more focused on Harry. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "Mr. Weasley-Barton."

"Yes Professor?" He didn't hesitate to respond once the last name he had grown up with and had associated with himself had been added. He looked at her with wide eyes and as innocent of an expression as he could muster. Her eyes locked with his and then to his button.

"I see you have completed the assignment." She held out her hand. Ron quickly gave her the button, not looking to test her temper on something as minor as looking at a button that was once a beetle. She looked over it quickly. Her eyes caught far more than Ron's did as she returned it to him, "Very good. Next time, try to make it without the beetle's shell pattern."

Ron looked back at his button as she walked away. Lifting it to the light, he could see the faint lines that were part of the beetle's shell that hid the wings. For now though, it was good enough for Ron. It was a perfectly functional button.

Two classes good enough, and only Defense Against the Dark Arts for their school day was well and good. Well, he did have a lesson with Doctor Strange after the Defense Against the Dark Arts, but with the two spells Doctor Strange had him working on, he was more eager to learn them and to move on to more engaging spells. Like his portal spell he used all the time. It was by far the most versatile spell Ron had seen and Doctor Strange seemed to do it effortlessly.

He was taken out of his train of thought with the end of class, Harry getting his attention. Hermione having darted ahead, all to eager to get a good seat in Professor Lockhart's class, dragging poor Neville behind.

"C'mon Ron. We've got Defense class next," Harry said as he gathered his belongings. Ron shook his head and stood up, also grabbing his belongings.

"Harry, have you ever wondered why we don't just abbreviate Defense Against the Dark Arts?" he asked in all seriousness. Both began to walk towards said class as Harry answered, "I think that calling a class DADA might make people not take it seriously."

"You think? I thought a lot of people did things because of their parents."

Harry raised a brow, but didn't say anything more on the odd subject as they made their way through the halls.

Both had been stopped in the halls due to young first years getting excited meeting The Harry Potter, or due to being lost in which Harry and Ron got them sorted out in the right direction. Colin, Ron was sure he was just trying to get another picture of Harry. Admist the chaos, he did see Ginny look around, looking lost as could be. He didn't know how to approach her. He didn't initially want to approach any of the British Weasleys.

"Hey Colin. What class are you heading to next?"

"Oh! Transfiguration. I think it's a left than a right?"

"A right then a left, take the stairs up as they face the murals, not the windows."

"Thanks!"

"Hey Colin, would you do me a favor?"

"What?" he asked with wide eyes filled with excitement.

"See that girl over there?" he asked pointing to Ginny who was looking more frantic and in his general direction, "She's in your class and she's looking a bit lost. Can you help her get to class?"

"Sure thing!" he replied. He bound over to Ginny, surprising her. Ron couldn't hear what was said as he and Harry rushed to class. He did glance back and saw his sister follow Colin. She turned her head and their eyes met. Quicker than most, she turned her head away to follow Colin. Ron did his best to shrug it off as he and Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. Ron noticed a quick disparity of many of the girls getting seats up front, Neville being next to Hermione as she had dragged him as an exception, and many of the boys were sitting in the back.

Ron and Harry found themselves in the very back where the only available seats were.

The room held a different atmosphere than it had the year prior. It was grand, epic in it's feel. It would be cool if not for the artwork of their teacher strewn about the room. His smile felt eery, surronding them. Hollow almost. And the faint scent of something fruity, like his Auntie Tasha's perfume when she was going off on one of her, shall not speak of it, missions.

They were always the missions that made her quiet for a while. A few minutes maybe, but they always worried Ron when he was little. As if when she went out with the smell, she might come back, but not be his Auntie Tasha afterwards.

She was always better not long after, but it was better with a cup of hot chocolate. He could really go for a cup.

He hoped that the room wouldn't always smell like it did.

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled with by the dramatic door opening of Gilderoy Lockhart. The man stood with his smile smuggly put in its' usual place.

"Hello students. Isn't it a pleasure to be here, among all the wonders and oppertunities," he commented his hands flourished and well timed. Each movement was precise. Cooridinated. Somehow, unsettling.

"I hope you are ready to learn from me," he said as he graciously picked up Neville's copy of _Travels with Trolls_ , the portrait on the front as it winked to the class. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award- but I don't talk about that, not when you're all here to learn. Afterall, I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!"

Hermione gave a quiet chuckle at his words. Ron just wanted to gag.

Gilderoy Lockhart lowered the book down on Nevill's stack of books. He looked around to see everyone with their own stack of his books of various conditions.

"I see all of you have obtained a complete set of my books- well done. Since you all have the proper reading material, I believe we should start today with a small quiz. Nothing to worry about-" he made sure to cut off the students before the inevitable moans started, "It's just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

He handed out the test papers and returned to his desk and proclaimed, "Thirty minutes should be plenty of time. You may start... now."

Ron's eyes went down to the paper. He didn't know he'd have to read all of the books before arriving. No that would be silly. It was a way to see what needed to be studied.

Then he read the first question.

 _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

What the heck kind of question was that?

 _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

No he read that right. Why would that question be on a Defense test?

Honestly this sounded so obscure- oh...

Like a spy mission.

Where any and all information could be vital even when it seemed useless. A color could tell a person's prefrence to hide something. He hadn't read the books but he had spent more time with him than he liked. Both times, in fact even now, he was wearing a light shade of purple.

It couldn't hurt to put it down.

He wrote down light purple.

 _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

Ron answered, to protect and educate. Vague, but considering his books on him protecting people and the fact he was now a teacher, it seemed legit.

 _What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

Becoming Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher.

* * *

"Tut, tut- hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I mention it in _Year with the Yeti._ And a few of you need to reread _Wanderings with Werewolves_ a bit more carefully. The twelfth chapter I believe it was, I state my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though I personally couldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," he chuckled. He gave a rougish wink and Ron sat there in disbelief, trying to gage if the man was secretly brilliant for testing them on retaining obscure knowledge, or a narcissist of unknown proportions.

He vaguely noted Dean and Seamus shaking in their seats, silently snickering. His eyes drifted to Hermione and Neville. Neville was stone still but his body language just screamed bored, even as he looked at the back of his head. Hermione was the opposite, her elbows on the table helping her lean forward, no doubt enraptured by Lockhart's mentioning her name.

"...but Miss Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-car products-good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Granger?"

Ron's brows shot up when he saw her shyly raising her hand. Who was this man and what did he do with Mione?!

"Beautiful work my dear. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now... onto business," he said in a dramatic tone. He crouched behind the desk and lifted a covered and shaking cage.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts should not be taken lightly. One wrong move, one wrong spell can have horrific consequences. I am here to teach you how to overcome such hazards should you meet them in life. You may find yourself facing your worst fears here, perhaps even discovering them. Have faith though, for so long as I'm here, no harm can befall you. I ask that you all remain calm in the face of danger."

Those were the words of a teacher, ones he could see Doctor Strange using. But they weren't the most comforting.

The class collectively leaned in at the seriousness of his mood, the laughing had stopped and all eyes were on the well curled blond man.

"I must ask you not scream," he spoke lowly, "We don't want to provoke them."

The whole class held their breath as Gilderoy pulled the cover away. Inside the cage were a multitude of skinny limbed, blue creatures with gossamer like wings and pinched; pointed faces, darting frantically in their enclosed space.

"Cornish pixies?" Seamus laughed.

"Freshly caught Cornish pixies dear boy," Gilderoy smuggly replied as though that tidbit changed everything. Ron had no idea if it did.

"Those aren't very dangerous," he wheezed.

"Don't be so sure," Gilderoy wiggled his finger as though scolding a young child. His eyes seemed to snap cold for a moment before he spoke again, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be. Small enough to get out of reach, unified enough to lift even the grounds keeper high into the air, these Cornish Pixies are nothing to laugh about."

His eyes went down to the lock and he flourished his wand, "But, in the pursuit of learning and your confidence that they aren't so dangerous, let's see what you make of them."

His wand touched the lock and the door flew open. Wildly fast eight inch blue pixies were running a muck of the place making many duck beneath their desks. Damage and destruction were everywhere. Ron could compare it to a bull in a china shop, but his mind went back to the chaos in New York from the invasion.

The broken glass. The chaos. Everything out of control because someone wanted a show of power.

"Come on now, round them up. They're just pixies."

Logically, it was Lockhart. He was in Hogwarts. The invasion was two years ago. This man wasn't a power hungry Norse god wannabe.

"Well, I guess I must, Peskipiski Pesternomi!" His words were clear but it did nothing to stop the chaos. Ron peered out to see a pixie pluck his wand out of his hand and casually toss it out the second story window. His face contorted into one of slight fear even as his smile remained. It was then the merciful school bell rang and students fled from the room with Cornish Pixies on their heels, throwing all sorts of odds and ends at them. It was only when he, HermioneGranger, Neville and Harry were left in the room that they were singled out.

"Well, you three seem to be taking this challenge head on. Confidence is good. Next step, put the pixies back in their cage."

Ron was gobsmacked as he just walked back into his office and shut the door, leaving the four of them with the pixies who didn't seem too interested in leaving the room. Yet.

Ron took a deep breath and slipped on his gloves from Doctor Strange. He cast the barrier spell on the room, with the open door and window however, it was more a concsious effort to keep it up rather than a one and done.

"Guys! Stop them!" Ron squeaked out. The pixies began to grab at him, pulling him off the ground. He fought his panic at the chaos and lack of control to hold the barrier. Hermione fired off freezing charms, stunning the pixies so Neville and Harry could grab them and place them back into their cage. Ron felt his robes be hooked to something and found the pixies who had been carrying him, frozen, just floating near his robes. He reached and grabbed the tricksters, only to realize he was hanging by a chandelier.

"Hold on Ron!"

The levitation spell they had learned the year prior took hold of Ron, getting him off the light fixture, before lowering him gently down to the ground. He shover his set of pixies into the cage as soon as he landed. His hands felt clammy and his face felt hot in emotions that were too overwhelming to sort through.

"Can you believe him?!" he screeched.

"He just wanted to give us some hands on experience," Hermione defended, "He had to do so in his books."

"Hands on?!" Harry barked, "The man didn't have a clue what he was doing!"

"I agree with Harry. Who sends out something that could kill you on the first day of class?"

"Potions uses ingridients that can kill. We just dealt with Mandrakes and they are potentially fatal."

"Potentially." Ron repeated, pointing out that they were dealing with the baby, not the full grown ones that killed by scream.

"Besides, you've all read his books. Look at all the amazing things he's done!"

"The things he's said he's done," Ron muttered.

 **Mysticarts I can feel you're glare from here. I know what you're thinking.**

 **MA:oh about the story? I am working on it**

 **Better be. Venture's Adventure for Takos needs an update.**


	29. Practice interrupted

Ron was shaky as he left the room with his friends. His adrenaline had crashed and he felt achy to his bones. His hands were clenched tightly around his books.

"Ron, are you alright?" It was Hermione who asked. Ron's jaw tightened.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just need to get to Doctor Strange's lesson."

"Well, we got nowhere we need to be. Want us to join you?" Neville offered. Ron's hands took a deep breath recognizing the offer of comfort. But he needed time to decompress. A walk alone to his lesson would probably do him some good.

"Thanks. But I think Doctor Strange will want me on my own for my first lesson back at Hogwarts."

He gave them a smile he hoped conveyed confidence.

"I'll be fine. Why don't you guys go around before rumors start and... yah know. Get out of control."

"Oh that would be bad," Neville muttered looking slightly horrified. "Pixie madness."

"Wouldn't that just invite chaos from your brothers?" Harry asked Ron. Ron felt himself relax ever so slightly at the idea. Outwardly, he put a horrified expression on his face, "Please stop them before they destroy the castle."

"Will do Ron," Neville chuckled. "C'mon guys. There's only two of them," he joked. Neville took Harry and Hermione to go and try to settle rumors as Ron made his way into the dungeon. The dungeon was devoid of people lingering the halls. Few wanted to walk the chilled halls below the school.

"Well who do we have here."

Ron groaned. Turning around he saw the smug face of Draco Malfoy, flanked by his larger "associates" Crabbe and Goyle.

"And what are you doing down here Weasel?" Draco egged on. Ron stared at Draco in confusion.

"Weasel? Are you having trouble speaking clearly?" he said in as steady voice as he could. "I thought you were _smarter_ than that."

Draco sneered at Ron.

"Think you're funny do you?"

"Do you?" Ron replied.

"The only thing funny is that you think you can just waltz down here without a detention."

"Well sorry _your majesty,_ but I have a class to get to. I believe that lets me come down here."

"Lair. You have no class down here. As good students, we should report you to Professor Snape."

"But you're not going to because I'm not lying and it would make you look like a bigger fool."

It finally clicked in Crabbe and Goyle's heads how Ron was fighting back with his words. Draco was practically seething at his insults.

"Let's get him to Professor Snape. He'll take care of him."

There was something about his walk that made Ron tense. He saw Draco's hand go for his wand as Crabbe and Goyle followed. Ron knew them growing closer would not be good, so he blurted out " _Trudo_."

There was no light. No gust of pressure. But the three were thrown back about ten feet back and landed on their behinds. Ron stared with wide eyes at the strength of the spell. It was only when the three jumped up that he turned tail and ran towards Doctor Strange's classroom. He could hear the three running after him, his books weighing him down. He didn't slow down though. He looked for the open door next to the potion's class room and barreled in. He dropped his books on the table as Doctor Strange's portal appeared in all it's golden orange glory. With all the confidence in the world, the well groomed man stepped forth. His eyes gazed over at Ron's panting form.

He then looked over to the door, where the heavy footfalls of Crabbe and Goyle could be heard as Draco Malfoy made it to the door way. Doctor Strange raised a brow and as Draco opened his mouth to say something, Doctor Strange lazily waved his hand towards the door. The door closed with a slam in Draco's face, curtesy of the floating cloak Ron noticed Doctor Strange wasn't wearing for once.

"Glad to see you've made it for your lesson," Doctor Strange said neutrally.

"Wouldn't miss it," he panted.

"Dare I ask about your little friend on the other side of the door?"

"Not... not my friend. He's more of a problem."

"You don't solve problems by running."

"I know."

"You solve them by driving them mad or overwhelming them."

"I think my dad has the same motto."

"It would not surprise me."

"Take breather and prepare for your lesson," Strange stated. Ron did as he was told and pulled the gloves Strange had given him two years ago and put them on, watching in fascination as they were now a perfect fit. He took in a few deep breaths, trying to dispel the thoughts and horrors that plagued his mind brought on by the Defense class.

"Show me your push and pull," Doctor Strange commanded, placing a notebook on the table.

" _Praepirio,_ " Ron cast the spell, focusing on the notebook as it flew to his hand. He snatched it easily, controlling the spell to not go as fast as it did when he first cast it. Then he loosened his grip on it and cast, " _Trudo_."

The book went flying back, bouncing a bit on the table, but not going over the edge.

"Good. Again."

The repetition was dull, but had a calming effect on Ron as he cast the two spells with more control and less thought. His hyper mind addled by the school and memories grew less frantic. The spells felt natural.

"Now, I want you to cast the barrier spell."

"On what?" Ron asked. They had used it on the jars the year prior, and his mentor did the room before they had started last year as well.

"On the room Ron."

"Does the spell not last?" he asked.

"Not with as often as the door is open in shut. It would not harm it to cast it again."

Ron nodded at the explanation as it did sort of make sense.

" _Tendicula_ _Parma_!" he cast. He could feel the magic he was casting create a shell clinging onto to stone walls and the wooden door. It was invisible to the naked eye but he could tell it was clearly there. Even casting the spell between the gap between the floor and the door.

"Very good. You're improving."

Ron smiled at the compliment.

"Does that mean you'll teach me a new spell?"

"What kind of spell are you hoping to get from me?"

"Something offensive?" he asked. His mind went to the Cornish pixies, the enchanted chess set, and the Mountain Troll.

"Absolutely not."

"What?"

"You're too young emotionally to be effective in controlling such spells. Not to mention the lack of appropriate time to use them at your age. You're better off learning wizard spells for that at this age. Sorcery is no laughing matter with the devastation it can cause with even basic use."

Ron was quiet at the quick dismissal and explanation. He couldn't really argue given how different it was casting spells he learned at Hogwarts versus those that he learned from Doctor Strange. His mind wandered, trying to think of a good spell to ask to learn.

"I want one to help stop a bad fall."

"A fall?"

"Harry was nearly bucked off of his broom in a Quiditch game. If I could soften the ground or-"

"Slow his fall?"

"Yeah."

"I have a spell for that."

* * *

The lesson was long, but Ron was eager to try and master the new spell. Granted, he needed someone to drop something for him to work the spell, but perhaps at Quiditch practice he would have the opportunity. He had recieved his notice for a lesson, shortly after working with Doctor Strange. It was a few days off and really early in the morning. Who knew Wood was a morning person?

Ron had been taking things as easily as he could. He stuck with his friends to avoid another one on three moment with Malfoy and his goons. He was mildly amused to see Harry trying to avoid Colin as Colin seemed to know exactly where Harry was at any given moment and ready to ask a boatload of questions. Ron may have had a part in Colin finding out the schedule of the second year Gryffindors. Colin didn't really bother Ron. He had a playfulness and excited nature that was rather fun to interact with.

Hermione and Neville were a little put off having Colin pop up next to them and talk their ears off and snapping pictures. Ron however was down at the field with Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team, not entirely sure if he was still stuck on reserve after last years horrendous loss with him as seeker, or off the team. Professor McGonagall never did say how long the punishment was supposed to last so... he showed up.

Considering his invite, he assumed he was stuck on the team. Hopefully they wouldn't need him to actually play. It was more amusing to talk to Colin about the nuances of the magical world. Despite his magical background, he grew up like Ron, completely unaware of the world he had been supposedly born into. But unlike Ron, Colin was wonderfully excited about everything. It was almost Hermione leveled fascination. And thankfully, not just the academia.

"Wow! Quiditch sounds so cool! Is it true that Harry is the youngest player in a century?!"

The only down side was his lack of indoor voice. Granted, they were outside prepping on the Quiditch field but it was still rather early. That and his questions were directed to Hermione and Neville because non players were not supposed to be on the field-field.

"Morning Wood," Ron greeted with a yawn. Fred and George squawked out a laugh. The members of the team rolled their eyes as Ron and Harry just seemed confused. Wood seemed remarkably indifferent.

"Ah, now that everyone is here, we can get started. After last year, I have been going over plans, strategies, and training, to avoid the same outcome as last year."

Ron averted his eyes. While he may not have been enthusiastic of being on the team, he did feel kind of bad that he cost the team the victory.

"We are going to be faster, we're going to play smarter. We-"

"Are going to stop hogging the entire field," a rougher voice interrupted. A wave of green robes went approached the set red. A wicked smirk leading the green, approached the red robed scowl of Wood.

"Flint."

"Wood."

"We have the field. We requested it, and it was granted. We don't need you here spying on us."

"Afraid? Don't worry, we don't need to resort to such tactics. We're just here, on account of training our new seeker. Professor Snape's orders."

"What? A new seeker? Last I checked Higgs was a seventh year."

A silent jab at the apparent threat of Harry Potter. Beating their seeker as a first year must have been a blow to their pride.

"Higgs wanted to focus on his studies. Who are we to fault him?"

Wood arched his brow at the mean looking sixth year. His look practically screamed disbelief. As if to ask who would chose anything over Quiditch.

"So who'd you settle with?" Fred questioned, sass filling every syllable. The Slytherin team parted like the red sea to reveal the slicked back platinum blond hair of Draco Malfoy. Ron watched as Harry's eyes narrowed and the two second years seemed focused on each other. Ron watched, feeling uneasy at the interaction. He was used to double talk and hidden meanings, but this was far thinner, each so close to saying or doing something that would end with them all being in trouble.

"Malfoy," Harry spoke with disbelief and slight anger apparent.

"Well, he _is_ a seeker worthy flyer. Just like Higgs." Flint looked down on Ron at the comment though, giving the statement a different meaning.

Wood's eyes sparked with his own rage. Fred and George moved up, their beater's clubs clenched tightly in their hands. The _Unlike Weasley_ went silently heard and visibly acknowledged.

"It gives you no right to be here after we've scheduled to practice. We didn't to anyone when Harry became our seeker."

"True as that may be, we received a rather, generous donation," Flint added with the whole team revealing their uniform and identical brooms. Dark polished wood with a silver script saying, _Nimbus 2001._ "Professor Snape agreed that we need to make sure we know how to fly with our state of the art brooms."

"You need flying lessons? There's a shock," Fred joked. The Slytherin team didn't seem to think it was terribly funny.

"New brooms need breaking in, like new shoes. Clearly something you've never had."

"Ah, but talent isn't something you can buy, unlike positions on your team."

Ron just stood there watching the teams size one another up, sneering at one another ready to bite back another quip when a large hair angel saved them.

"What are you lot doin?" the familiar gruff voice of Hagrid the ground's keeper called out. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but no one was foolish enough to say something to the ground's keepers face during the school year. The man was the kinder and more beastly version of Filch.

"Just getting in some practice," Flint commented, "Mount up."

Slytherin's team mounted in near perfect uniformity and took to the air. Wood's nostrils flared in his anger.

"Far side of the field! Everybody, practice is still on!"

* * *

Practice was long and tedious. What with the two teams "accidently" running into one another, firing off bludgers towards the others, intercepting one another or near crashing into each other made it exhausting. To little Colin though, he was bouncing up and down from the excitement of the wild unpredicted Quiditch lesson.

"That was amazing! Does that happen often? How fast can you go? Do first years really get to fly?"

"Teams don't meet up together, I have no idea, and Madam Hooch will be teaching you." Ron spoke to the point, avoiding Hermione's in depth explanations to the hyper boy, and no doubt pulling Harry's irritation into just the first question given Wood's rather agressive training session. Colin took it with stride and Neville just looked amused. Harry, was exhausted and focused on getting back to the dorm to get started on the homework Hermione would no doubt be on them about.

"Is it hard?! How high do you go? How fast can you go?"

"It varies, pretty high, but we got in trouble, and I don't know really."

The conversation went back and forth all the way to the dorms. It had become a conversation that Hermione and Harry had started to listen in on in fascination.

"So you come from an all magic family? What's it like?"

"Anyone ever tell you, you would be a good reporter?"

Colin actually fell quiet at the redirection Ron presented.

"No. I don't think anyone's ever told me that. You really think so?"

"You know what questions to ask. You're naturally curious and you've got the camera to prove something happened."

Colin's face lit up brightly as his smile grew. His eyes sparkled and before Ron could realize, a picture was snapped. Ron blinked as lights danced across his eyes. As his vision was compromised, he felt skinny arms wrap around him in a quick hug.

"Thanks Ron. No one's ever been so nice about my hobby," he spoke quickly, referring to his camera.

"Erm... no problem?"

Colin opened his mouth to say something when Ginny appeared.

"Hey Ginny! Bye Ron!" he said running over to Ginny in excitement. Colin began regaling her with the Quiditch practice and all the cool things he had seen as the four left the two to do what Hermione said. Their homework.

 **Another chapter bites the dust... And another one gone, and another one gone...**

 **In all seriousness, it has bothered me that Slytherin was allowed to essentially take the field when it was already being used, with permission and publicly known. Gryffindor didn't get that treatment when Harry was made seeker, nor does it happen when any other character joins the Quiditch team. I know Snape and favoritism but he would need more leverage than just a new player. Entirely new team equipment is a slightly better stretch. Like driving a car, each one would be different and it would make it a safety issue.**

 **Granted, I'm sure that Slytherin were already riding on good brooms considering their pride to win, it was just that Malfoy Senior's donation that truly tipped the scale in a whole team needing "more time" to train.**

 **Also, on a slightly varied note, Venture's Adventure for Takos by Mysticarts has finally updated. A sister story and culinary fic.**


	30. Pretty much pointless

Insanity. The homework was pure insanity.

"Lockhart is freaking mad. Hermione, when will we need to know, where his ideal vacation would be? It doesn't tie in anywhere and is a one off conversation!" Ron argued with the smartest witch in their grade. He rather be working on anything else.

"It's obviously being used to make sure we do the reading Ronald," Hermione defended.

"When will it ever be needed? Mione be reasonable," Ron responded easily. Harry and Neville looked at one another with knowing looks.

"It's a first assignment, he's probably trying to make the assignment simple."

Harry and Neville began facing each other, shaking their fists two times before Harry revealed scissors and Neville revealed paper. Neville's head lowered as Ron replied, "It's near impossible to find in this freaking book! I could tell you sooner how he actually beat the Yeti."

"Hey guys? As pointless as it is to know that detail about Lockhart, can't we at least get the homework done and forget about it?"

"But-!" Ron and Hermione said in tandem.

"Does it really matter? If it's just to find the information, does it really matter if we remember it?"

"Well no," Ron admitted.

"That is such a bad habit-" Hermione began.

"Hermione," Neville interrupted, "When will we ever need this information?"

Hermione huffed at the comment, but couldn't think of a reason to know where Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal vacation spot would be.

* * *

Days fell into a rhythm as Halloween drew closer. He kept letters from his dad and Aunt Tasha in a small box. Mainly his dad though. He was looking at the most recent. Chuckling at the messy handwriting from his dad russing earlier when he had time to write, smoothing out when he wrote more after the mission was complete.

He assumed his dad was doing a mission in Russia when he sent the letter. In the faster paced writing, a few Russian words slipped into his scrawl. Ron still had arguements with Hermione over the apparent uselessness of Lockhart's class and how he had been practicing his most recent spell from Strange under the table with a quill. His wand at the ready to to float the quill back to his free hand. Thankfully, it rarely drew in attention from Lockhart's flashy teaching.

Harry seemed to be a bit more tired lately though. He said it was nothing but Ron wasn't so sure. Perhaps it was just due to the upcoming aniversary of his parent's death. He didn't seem as agitated last year though.

It was only after a terribly stormy Quidditch practice, because nothing could convince Wood it was a bad time to practice, that Ron and Harry came in sopping wet, both eager for towels and a warm fire to sit by that the monotonous days were broken up. They wanted to forget the reports from Fred and George over how fast the Slytherin brooms were, as well as the harsh whipping winds and bullet like rain drops.

Though it was a bit of a mystery how Harry and Ron ended up in the halls alone when everyone was heading back to the dorms to warm up, it did lead them to a peculiar sight of Sir Nicholas muttering about something, preoccupied in his own world.

"Half an inch... Just shy of..."

Ron had no idea what the ghost was talking about.

"Hello Nick," Harry greeted. Ron raised a brow at Harry before also greeting Nick.

"Ah, Hello Harry. Hello Ronald."

"It's Ron," Ron corrected. He didn't really mind Ronald from family, but it felt odd from a legitimate dead person when they already shortened his name.

Nearly Headless Nick hummed at the comment.

"Is something the matter boys?"

"Just some wet weather training," Ron replied.

"What about you Nick?" Harry inquired.

"Oh. Nothing you should worry yourself with," he said morosely. Ron raised a brow, slightly more curious about what could really upset a ghost. Sure he had heard rumors of a chronically depressed ghost somewhere in the castle, but wouldn't that somehow be different?

"Something's clearly up," Ron commented, not really thinking about lowering his voice until after he had spoken.

"Ah, yes. It's just that my death day is fast approaching," Nick answered somewhat vaguely. Ron felt his face contort with confusion, as did Harry's with news. "As it is, I have recieved a letter from the members of the Headless Hunt. Really a matter of no importance... It's not as if I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently, I don't fulfill the requirements."

It was during his vague speech that Ron noticed a transparent letter that only brought forth rather startling questions. Ghosts had a mail system? Did ghost owls deliver? Were ghost animals real? For that matter, how would they even write? Parchment couldn't die. And niether could ink. His head hurt with the growing questions.

"You would think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify one to join the Headless hunt?"

"Oh- Yes," Harry answered for both himself and Ron who was internally reminding himself to pawn all the questions off on Hermione when he saw her next. Or maybe Neville would know. He did grow up in an all magical home afterall. Sir Nick kept talking when Ron noticed a familiar feline with impressive yellow eyes. Ms. Norris the cat. Familiar of Filch. It was seeing her that made him painfully aware of thier dripping robes from thier nasty quidditch practice. Which could only mean Filch was nearby. Ron smacked Harry's shoulder, both interrupting the ghost of the house of Gryffindor and catching Harry's attention. Both turned to face Ron, staring at him like a mad man. Ron gave ghem both a look and then glanced in the direction of Ms. Norris.

"Hate to run Nick. But I don't think Filch will be too happy seeing us all muddy," Ron said quickly as he began to run in the opposite direction of Ms. Norris. Harry didn't hesitate to follow as Nick did as well. Floating seemed far more convenient as he didn't have to worry about slipping on their own wet and slippery shoes.

"Just as well, Filch is in truly a foul mood," Nick continued talking, "The man has the flu and is too stubborn to see Madam Pomfrey, that and a third year got frog brains plastered to the fifth dungeon's ceiling. I wouldn't be surprised if Peeves was involved-"

Ron and Harry took an abrupt turn, narrowly missing the wall Sir Nick had flown through ans clammored up one of the moving staircases as no doubt Ms. Norris followed, trying to be easy for Filch to find but not losing the dirty boys. The stairs began to move as they neared the top. In an effort to not get in trouble, the two sped up and jumped to the openning where the stairs led to before the castle's enchantments brought back the ever sturdy and magically crafted railing reappeared to prevent any accidental falls to painful deaths. Ron and Harry gasped, taking in as much air as they could now that Filch would have a harder time following them. They began walking as quietly as they could, Ron a bit more effective than Harry as Filch appeared at the base of the moving stairs with Ms. Norris by his side. His skin a ghastly, sickly chalky hue with his nose an odd purplish color. A nasty cough had his body shaking as Harry and Ron slipped away towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Well that was lucky."

"We'd have been luckier if we hadn't run into Nick. He's the whole reason we ran into Ms. Norris," Ron commented.

"But we didn't get caught."

"Harry, other than learning that ghosts celebrate that they died, and that they apparently have a mail system. What else did we learn? Nothing! This was pretty much pointless!"

 **I notice this is often just not in fanfictions. Found it odd as the circumstances shouldn't really change leading to running into Sir Nicholas. Oh well. I have Mysticarts yelling at me for not updating earlier. My bad. Anyway, this chapter is what it is. A part of the original story that just didn't feel right leaving out.**


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